The media is trying to drive us mad
It’s business you see, dependant on you and your
Glad strivings, resplendent in the glee of tragedy,
laid out in an endless battle between good and evil; motivations lost, and
Cattle embossed by a loveless brand, enmity careening along splintered edges
Minds broken and abandoned Into a somersaulting land
Conflict resolution looks good on paper, and
Even better if they can make you hate her
Until then we will plant tiny mines of doubt,
Ready to dispatch the handle and the spout,
China shards explode and sink flinted edges into
Wode and Mallard, as pine-handled secrets open and tumble into
A hedge-funded suicide, won by the detection of a conman rumbled
‘We’ve got another one,’ cries the BBC reporter
Reputation deported at the flick of a switch
The twitching trigger-fingers of the helicopter’s guns
Remove the heinous hun from the face of the desert
And the shires, sent howling into the sun.
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