To the idling along rich
The snow moon
Was big medicine
It did not dance
And it did not sing
On television
I watched the news lady as she
Shuffled her papers
Into squares
At the press of a button
The snow moon
Came walking onto screen
They preferred the snow moon
To all the news in China
The BBC news
Maybe they lack the funds
For up to the minute broadcasts
Maybe they are holograms
From the hard drive
Of the chancellor
For a long time
I watched the news
Piling up like snow
Contributing
To brain repeats
And more cups of tea
(As vaccinations go
This left me all aglow
I spent the afternoon
Grinning like a loon
Then as the evening fell
I drooped down
Into vaccine hell
Vaccine hell
My joints ached
My bones creaked
My thoughts quaked
My speech leaked
And I had to go to bed
As if I had the flu)
So why do I watch it?
There’s a kind of sanctity
About the BBC news studio
It’s like being present
At a crematorium
As the body is sent
Gliding into the flames
To the sound
Of a grinding church organ
Cannot argue with you re the Beeb! Great Post 🙂
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