A Poem About a Sony Television Set (Now a Weekly Series)

Once, people said that television would take the role of the parent.  They were right. Here is my second weekly installment of brand anthropomorphism.  Enjoy:

My Daddy's Name is Sony

Daddy sits in one place

and beams his lights at me

as I lie on my side

to watch his stories

and hear his movies

Daddy's name is Sony,

a man of glass and plastic

He listens to his family

laughing at his wit

or something kind of sick

Daddy can go louder

when you press the button

controlling his functions

directing me to friends

holding their figurines

"Time for a commercial!"

proclaims the saintly Daddy

becoming not so saintly

annoying all the family

with his toys and food

From hair to feet,

we are Daddy's stories

waiting to be seen

at Super Bowl halftime,

millions in view

My never-ending Daddy

glowing from a perch

and always changing

his collars and jewels

for a new bottle of wine

Daddy burns mercury

into my bedtime yawn

and summons me to

rest my lids to wake

up to brand new glows

And Daddy will be replaced

at the calling of the year

with a Daddy taller and flatter,

a universe in his head

to make the trains run

(source: buffalo-newyork.olx.com)