TV is Company

Note: This is what happens when I sit downto write something entirely random, see what develops, and then don't go back to edit it. This appears to have something to do with one of my favorite shows, Three's Company. Sort of. I'm in love with Larry Dallas. Hee.

Television shows echo memories of friends I've never had.
Jack and Janet used to say to me, "We're all you have."

(She's crazy, very much so, have you heard so, you've been told so.)

Movies always end too soon, the hero wins and pretty villains die.
But always with a twinkle in their eye. (They've killed a few.)
And something tells me tv, if it never ends, shall try to marry you.

(For I'm a bachelorette, and tv is as far as marriage gets.)

Behold! Undaunted by the light! Sleep here with me tonight!
Oh Larry with the bitter tongue and perfect curls,
With chest hair fine and lemons which impress the girls,
"It's real Corinthian leather." (And vegans beg but needn't choose.)

Where movies have an ending, go on living someplace boring,
Television ends with nothing, leaves one hanging, lest we choose to never
See the elder versions of the characters who sleep with us at night.
But then again that's something of a fallacy, the sleeping isn't right.

I mean to say that sometimes I forget to feel perplexed by Sommers'
Money issues; Chrissy, oh my dear, you precious thing, you died too soon.
Imagination cannot bring you back and that's too bad, because the tv set
Forgives and lets me guess at lovely things that you might do.

Jack Tripper died; thereafter, John, and thus I cried.

Imagination traps reality, or vice versa,
and I ramble hidden words which never mean a thing.

The light and empty bed are comforting.