It's just poetry, it won't bite

Fresh Red Paint


08.28.16 Posted in today's words by

Gary Priest’s most recent poem to appear here was “The Hill” (June 2016) 

Fresh Red Paint
By Gary Priest

Tragedy will hatch with an ominous crack
from these manufactured eggs.
Aborted fortune runs its slippery fingers,
like unwanted attention across the skin.

A half-life is smeared in tabloid black
across your eyes like fresh cement.
Rolling captions are thunderheads,
promising apocalypse next!

Emerging rubble wrapped but photogenic
victimised by lipstick thin anchorage.
Salivating sound bite mongrels.
Power dressed into becoming angels.

With sanitised grammar on sanctified cue,
a pixelated ribbon tied to disguise
this ravenous appetite for full disclosure
of the picture daubed with fresh red paint.



One Response to “Fresh Red Paint”

  1. Mira Taylor says:

    Love this bleak/twisted paean to the dubious fear-mongering and sensationalism enshrined in our 24hr news culture. Also made me feel nostalgic for good old fashioned newsprint which always made my hands dirty. Those were the days. Thanks, Gary :)