I cannot read the newspapers anymore.
The world as we know it
is dying  — fast,
faster than we thought.
Our bellies are full of plastic.
There will be no more
(fill in the blank with anything but cockroaches)
in the next 50 40 30 20 10 years.
Doomsday, people.
We are talking Doomsday.

I cannot listen to news radio anymore.
No one speaks hope.
No one talks about
compassion,
humanity,
brotherhood.
It’s ME-this and I-that;
We don’t give
a (fill in the blank with the expletive of your choice)
about anybody/thing else.
“SHUT the (expletive) UP!”

I cannot watch news on television anymore.
Everything is being burned
or blown up.
The (fill in the blank with anything but the cost of living)
is falling —
falling down like fat eggs on walls
and we can’t fix it.
W E     C A N N O T     F I X    IT!
People are shooting our children.
Our children are shooting people.
Floods, drought.
Earthquakes, mudslides.
Before our eyes
the world is crumbling.
We all fall down.

I cannot bear the news anymore.
Read me a bedtime story.

 

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Over at Writer’s Digest, Robert Lee Brewer in Poetic Asides is offering the Wednesday Poetry Prompt. For today’s prompt, he asks us to write a negative poem.
Why not write along?