Flipping the TV channels fires cascades
Of imagery, the sound switched off: crazed patches
Of adverts, pop stars, quizzes, football matches,
Dramas with whiskered toffs and busty maids,
Current affairs. Here the elation fades,
Watching our leaders as the camera catches
Their dumbed-down miming and their smiles in batches,
Plying the most impossible of trades.
These are our other selves who represent
With aides, interpreters and spooks with guns,
The good we want, the hurt we never meant.
At summits and in cabinets they choose
Our lives for us, and where their remit runs
A starving child, a war is in the news.
If you've any comments on
this poem, K.M.Payne would be
pleased to hear from you.