As I listen to
reporters driveling newscasts
I find solace in their subtle connotations and official euphemisms.
I revel in a ground correspondent's
conspicuous attempt to emphatically assert himself;
he brought his flak jacket,
I brought my cereal bowl.
I can play frontiersman
for hours, flipping channels,
struggling to remember daily talking points and interview exclusives.
Plaster faces reassure me I'm no candidate to judge,
I'm no outcast who might step out of line
from the formalities of breaking news.
Every once in a while I
might find myself nodding in approval,
utterly consumed by relevant analyses in the spirit of objective media.
I wish anchors could see me smile warmly when my TV goes off
knowing CNN will be on tomorrow
to cover policy regards and propagate