Every day spurting red
over our world.
Is it blood?
It is blood.
If I did not see the blood
I would chew red meat,
quaff red wine,
don purple, gilded robes,
clothed in luxurious privilege.
But News--you put the blood in my eye,
stir my blood to rage,
red on red.
I will fight to the death,
mop up the blood of injustice,
never whitewash like Sawyer connived,
no trading of pocket doodads
for false hopes and panaceas,
nothing clever in what I do,
just grit and spit.
News do not leave me alone
or let me forget--the blood.
Originally published in Cactifur Magazine