Your pictures fill my weekday world at five. The yellow crime tape flutters at the scene Of yesterday’s event. You’re there, on screen, Square-jaw’d Slick Goodhair, you’re reporting live. But first, “Are you depress'd? Or weak, or dumb? This pill, this car, this show, this boy, this chick, This beer, this low-carb pizza on a stick Will banish pesky thoughts.” Oh, bliss… I’m numb! “Tonight! Police continuing their hunt For signs of blue-eyed Dumpling Goldilocks; But first, our Mayor Quoteworth talks and talks; The traffic’s bad; no rain; replay that punt.” That I may live in thee, secure and whole, Stay on, TV, and teleprompt my soul.
My students are doing a Sonnet Slam tomorrow, and they asked whether I was going to contribute a poem. I hadn’t planned to, but I figured what the heck.
I had my colleague, Al Wendland, peer-review it for me.
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