BLINDNESS

My family had a TV repairman, and I had no idea
how he sat in front of his own TV, blue-lit and repetitive, with lids barely fluttering beneath a great weight.
He had his father's name blazoned across the side of the brown van that pulled into our driveway sometimes, when trouble arose, when our reception was marred by oceans of static, licking at a sodden, sore wound that threatened to grow. This might be blindness,
but we are waiting for someone to tell us otherwise.