We don't like to dwell on it, but let's be honest; some days it seems like the world is made up of nothing but bad news.
Accordingly, today's Poetry Friday entry — published thirteen years ago and as relevant as ever — is S.P. Zitner's "The Bad News" (from his collection The Hunt on the Lagoon).
If you're looking for good news, better look elsewhere. Go find a cute cat pic or something.
The Bad News
The first time a messenger brought the bad news we shot him,
and the second and the third. Then a small plane flew over,
trailing a bad news banner, and we shot it down.
TV once showed the bad news true and whole —
not the acceptable, somewhere-else-too-bads,
so we deputized the newsrooms.
When the bad news sneaked by on radio,
we filled the dial with gangsta rap,
so no one could tell the bad news from the lyrics.
Then bad news leaflets floated from the sky.
We couldn't find them all, so we had the schools
downplay reading. We thought we were safe,
but just as we had settled back to enjoy,
the bad news sprang up everywhere on its own,
needing no messenger, and no longer news.
and the second and the third. Then a small plane flew over,
trailing a bad news banner, and we shot it down.
TV once showed the bad news true and whole —
not the acceptable, somewhere-else-too-bads,
so we deputized the newsrooms.
When the bad news sneaked by on radio,
we filled the dial with gangsta rap,
so no one could tell the bad news from the lyrics.
Then bad news leaflets floated from the sky.
We couldn't find them all, so we had the schools
downplay reading. We thought we were safe,
but just as we had settled back to enjoy,
the bad news sprang up everywhere on its own,
needing no messenger, and no longer news.
