POEM: NEWS OF THE WORLD #5

News that’s fun is all that’s run.

(Under sun it comes undone.)

Children laugh at virtual giraffes,

while target maths breed cyber gaffs.

Nylon dreams, a city screams.

Smoke stack reams, a rape it seems.

Dogs unleashed? Let them eat quiche!

Will that be condom-sheathed? Or handkerchief?

Dolphins swim in plastic sims.

Poor tongues spin first-world rims.

Microns measure flat-screen pleasure

of purposed leisure. (A fallen treasure.)

What stan was that? Out cold? Flat?

No! Which ruler sat in his own scat?

It’s Laurel meets Hardy at our party.

Doom’s a far day; so please, be tardy!

Open a map and the world’s in your lap.

(One neutron zap and it’s all a trap.)

Those dying bees will make you sneeze.

While apes from trees await The Freeze.

Principled people call from steeples.

And from creep-holes come disciples.

Toxic discharge? “Is that your barge?”

Asks Silent Sarge, the one in charge.

Spanish captains or rainforest chaplains,

it’s Conquest boss men who signal The End.

Albino crews—they make the news,

not minding views of those in pews.

Reaching empty, no shoreline sentry.

A land of plenty for landing gentry.

What was I said? That’s why they’re dead.

Whose sky is red? Oh? It’s time for bed.

Babies on pikes—TERRORIST TYKES!

Co-opted mikes. (Focus-groups like.)

Pageants galore. Who needs more?

What’s in store? Behind that door!

Which is worse: money or purse,

a child’s curse, or who’s on first?

Investigate and substantiate.

Then propagate. Don’t be late!

Carriers swift. “Paradigm shift.”

Microbes’ gift of nature’s rift.

What’s the better? What’s the matter?

What comes after? (Cosmic laughter.)

I WROTE THIS SOMETIME IN THE WANING AUGHTS or early teens of this brave new century of ours, and I note that the topics are varied—from pollution, to the perils of “cyber space”, war, terrorism, pandemics, basic human stupidity, sex (natch!), greed, social inequality and so on. There are references to political buffoonery, nuclear war, climate change  and “dying bees”. 

I seem to have a focus on how the privileged of the world can blithely ignore the goings-on in the real world, read their newspapers or digital device of choice, and carry on with their morbidly happy lives. Until of course, they no longer can.

     I have references to the arrivals of Europeans to the New World (“Rain forest chaplains”, “landing gentry”). And I note a grim reference to “terrorist tykes” which was my sense of the absurd and was about the inhumanity we express towards one other in acts of terrorism, and how such acts of violence breeds revenge acts that seem to never end. It’s a grim reference because it was a prediction of sorts. In Indonesia, on May 14, this year, an ISIS-inspired family went on a vacation killing spree, eventually blowing themselves up, children and all. (One eight year old daughter apparently survived.) There were four children, three of whom detonated their own bombs at separate locations in the capital of Jakarta. “Sweetie, did you remember to pack your bomb? Have a good day. Love you!” 

I think if Dante were alive, he would add a special circle of Hell for such parents. (And this might be the most cautionary tale ever about the perils of home schooling!)

     At the end of the day, this NoW poem isn’t one of my favs. I find it a little rough around the edges, less focused,  but I like its rhyme scheme and meter, which reads a little quicker with the addition of a double rhyme scheme per line in linked couplets. It moves along at a fair clip, but to where exactly—to the universe laughing at us? Well, maybe we deserve it. Maybe. I don't know anymore...

Cheers Jake.