The Room Stilled

From behind a framed postcard of the Zeppelin,
Spring two antennae, as if they were in an alien
Farce, the ears of a rabbit, on top of the television,
The passport photograph superfluous to needs,
In vanitas useless, a fossilized sea urchin, an ecinoidean
Without spines, smooth black except for a chalky
Ladder of plates, to imagine this once inhabited
The marine world, millions of years ago, not thousands,
The television is on standby, the colour is kapputted,
Its red eye signals its intention - and the control panel
Is loose like a redneck’s slack jaw, ”Whatdeyermean?”
The descriptive narrative has only a vacumm, does it not
Rosemary? Here, I hear in Penguin book the sounds
Of the Hittite advance in cuniform design to take out
The artefacts of the 21st century and crown their version
Of events today, on this day, in the month of March.