“Faux News” runs wild, a fevered rush,
Reports dressed up in garish hues,
Where truth is buried beneath the gush,
And headlines shout, but hardly muse.
“Scandal!” they cry, “Chaos unfurled!”
A splash of blood, a twist of fate—
The world reduced to noise and swill,
A circus show, a fearsome bait.
The facts are twisted, frayed, and thin,
Wrapped in the weight of a crafted lie.
The truth, once pure, is drowned within
A storm of rumor, a painted sky.
The rich, the poor, the saint, the thief,
All cut and worked to fit the frame—
A realm of rage, of thrill, of grief,
But never one that rights the game.
Media drips with yellowed tones,
In reckless spatters, sharp and bright—
There’s no concern for the groans,
As long as it sparks a fight.
Who cares if justice bends or breaks,
If the story makes patrons bite?
A nation sold on the latest take
On that juicy piece from last night.
© 2020, Kenneth Koziol. All rights reserved.