There will be wars
And rumors of wars
The rapacious mogul knows
Plying his long division in television shows.
Fractional punditry
Unhinged jaws, Hell’s colliers
Cast the masses sundry
Into worlds polar.
Reynard’s sly
Vixens too, aggrieved privilege fuming
Pushing lies
The common outrage consuming.
Facts elided
Talking points lockstep spun
No report, we’ve decided.
Obfuscating ‘til the program’s done.
What is truth, for that matter?
Isn’t that what Pilate said?
Letting Sadducee opinion shatter
And strike the Lamb dead.
Forgetting Truth is Trust
That what must be must
Letting reason pierce ignorance’s crust
Otherwise, reality’s a bust.
Like Rome’s fiddler dread
Reynard’s playing with fire
Risking Transcendent ire
Desiring ratings instead.
They’re all about money, honey.
They don’t give a fuck
Never have in memory
For those down on their luck.
I & Thee
They cannot see
In them there is no we
Only me, me, me.
Tune out, drop in
Connection’s joy warms the hearth!
Leave behind their jabbering sin
And their art’s cynical dark.
