The musical cues
are perfectly timed;
the actors, beautiful,
the Thomas Kincaid lighting.
TV houses remain
impeccably decorated,
with wadded-up
wrapping paper
strangely absent from
the living room floor.
Any tears shed
are because
the two principals
finally found
each other,
and (of course)
they found love,
their cynicism replaced
by a sentimental gesture
that reminds of them
of their lost innocence.
No, Christmas on TV
lacks the wailing, moaning
and unremitting sadness,
longing for loved ones
long passed over
passed by
or passed away.
Christmas on TV
proves no loneliness
goes unanswered,
and everyone
has someone looking in
on them.
But life isn’t TV
and there are
dark, lonely quiet
living rooms,
with lone strings
of half-burned out lights
and dusty, faded nativity scenes,
valiantly trying
to imbue festivity
with warmth.
Christmas on TV
isn’t anything sad,
it sticks around
playing and re-playing
familiar fantasias
that rarely happen
in real life.
For some,
Christmas on TV
is the only Christmas
they know
as they wait
for December 26,
when it will all
vanish,
seemingly overnight,
and everything,
for better or worse
or same,
goes back to normal.
