TV in Black and White

In the mid-sixties
We were sentenced to watch
the rich on TV--Donna Reed
High-heeled in the kitchen,
Ozzie nelson bending
In his eighth season, over golf.
while he swung, we hoed
Fields flagged with cotton
Because we understood a socak
Should have foot,
A cuff a wrist,
And a cup was always
Smaller than the thirst.
When Donna turned
The steak and onions,
We turned grape trays
In a vineyard
That we worked like an abacus,
A row at a time.

And today the world
Still plots, unravels with
Piano lessons for this child
Braces for that one--
Gin in the afternoon,
Ice from the bucket . . .
But if the electricity
Fails, in this town,
A storefront might
Be smashed, sacks may find
Hands, a whistle
Point the way.
And if someone steps out
with a lack and white TV,
It's because we love you Donna,We miss you Ozzie.

(from Red, White, and Blues: Poets on the Promise of America Ed. Virgil Suarez and Ryan G. Van Cleave 2004)