The Bad News

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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 schoolsdownplay 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.

© Zitner Sheldon