Coming of Age of a TV Addict

Starting as a Mini Mo,

The product of Philo Farnsworth's reproductive species

Has been the sun to 9 branches of my eagerness,

Expressed in forms of entertainment

Shot out of this fizzed-out shaken can

Of Monique Mountain Dew,

Encouraging some to silence me

And others to bestow laughter upon me.

I was the caterpillar relying

On Spongebob and Teletubbies

To convince me innocence exists.

Now, I'm nowhere close to a butterfly

And hope overthinking ideas I bump into

Become the creatures manifested by Snow White's fears

That as I, too, run away from them,

This section of my book tells my coming of age.

Yet I was the cartoon-hungry munchkin

That allowed knowledge of older shows

Such as "Robot Chicken" or "Family Guy"

To be paint splattered on

And seeped into

My all-controlling brain by the age of 8.

Early exposure to the combination

Of the world's electrons

And computer animated protons

Might be a slight mistake,

Because if my eyes aren't becoming Niagara Falls

To Dora the Down Syndrome Explorer,

Spongebob as meth or lust or a tampon,

Donald PTS Duck,

A homicidal teletubby

Or Shrek being "love and life",

Without fear manifestation,

Without innocence shattering

To the ugliness of your disliking maturity,

Walter Kovacs never becomes Rorschach.