Just, Than


The news the other day suggested: listen to this

like any other moment, the words were unheard.

Instead there were flashes of pretty people praying,

scads of lads and lassies being themselves for us.

Yet that was missed again and instead the threat,

that incessant reality of war and terror met our eyes.

For that is what he wants you to hear about today

not suggesting a capitalized surname on this one,

but more the media driven hypocrisy that bleeds

into our living space, our garage steps, car radios.

There is that sound of nauseated, dripped out sad,

the reality of our times, only magnified again, again.

Do you remember when a ‘just, than‘ moment might

transform your state of mind onto sandy beachfronts,

a golf course on the Riviera, where she and you live.

Can someone bring back that mystique we all miss

when the sun begins to set while we are left alone,

only to be easily drawn in by the man, by the man.

That certain entity of ‘everyman’ that He or She …

Oh somehow the Plan became another parody.