black and white tv

your grandmother,
while
smoking a
cigarette
and drinking
her tea, biting
into her
cinnamon toast,
with her
false teeth
would watch
liberace
at seven o'clock
in the morning.
she'd shush
you
and the other
kids to
be quiet.
the tv was
black and white
but that didn't
stop the glitter
of the frothy
man to come
through.
even then at
seven
you stood there
with your hands
on your hips,
guns holstered
hat on, you
waited
patiently for
your turn at the
dial
and roy rogers,
or sky king, or
my friend flicka
to come on.