This Just In

I’ve been reading the sad script of our lives
in the morning paper and don’t much care for
the current draft, which churns on and on,
the bloody plot repeating itself over and over,
characters glued to their maniacal insistence
that they live inside of God’s head or that
white is king of the rainbow.

We’re in desperate need of a rewrite, heroes
we can cheer for and a setting that’s not all smoke
and stench. As it stands, we’ve got too many villains auditioning for the part; racing in from bank vaults,
pulpits and sand castles, armed with checkbooks,
prayer books and bullets.

Tomorrow, I’m going to skip the main news,
the stock tables and obituaries. I’ll skip the jock itch
of the sports page and the costume ball of Hollywood.
Then I’ll spread the paper on the floor while I sit and eat
my cereal. And watch my wise and untrained puppy
as he writes his editorial.