2 December 2003 | Vol. 3, No. 4

Cultural Studies

by RICKY GARNI

there comes a time in which, no matter how important poetry may be, it seems more important to go out and buy throw pillows. sometimes it even seems more important to watch television, although you could argue that poetry is more necessary, but in order to write it, television must be watched. that's possible.

"what's on tonight?" "nothing." well; it doesn't matter; it's still important. more important than poetry? no; the two cannot be separated, one might say, however, one might also say, if it is a particularly important day, or program, then yes, it is. if it isn't, or doesn't. I suppose it also depends on the poem.

of course, if there is a poet on television, reading a poem, that's when life can become difficult and decisions can be excruciating. it's not like going out in the ocean on a surfboard and getting all banged up and coming in and saying "forget it!" no, it is more complex. the t.v.? the poem? the throw pillow? all in one? totality? nothingness? eternity? etc.?

yesterday, arthur miller was on television. they never once mentioned his voluptuous wife, marilyn monroe. they talked about terror and fear. he seemed really old and tired. "do you believe in god?" "well, as I gaze out into the vastness of…" click. off goes the t.v. set. the little luminous dot in the center of the screen reminds me of everything that was good about childhood. even marilyn monroe. even throwing pillows. it is enough.