Monday, March 02, 2009

Off the record briefing

You shade your eyes in vain.
Your thoughts are plain for us to see
And as the colours seem to drain
From all your words, we
Note the well worn artifice,
The carefully crafted, chiselled phrase,
The way you’ve learnt to splice
Each lie with truth in order to amaze,
Bewilder, turn logic upside down,
Each subtle pause, intake of breath,
Each pout and tut and frown,
The perfect timing of your stealth,
Your craft, your wit, your expertise,
How easily unwary minds take in,
Absorb each word you please,
As if to doubt were mortal sin.

Like bindweed, all your thoughts take hold,
Choke questions just before they germinate
So, surely all senses grow both dull and cold.
Men lose the will to contemplate.
‘This must be so,’ you hear them chime
Whilst in their heads neat headlines form.
In such a way, before you know it, time
Has slipped away and a warm, warm
Sense of certainty becomes the norm.

In such a way,
The very air becomes corrupt,
Crops wither, the light palls,
Mass graves yawn open,
Whole peoples disappear
And civilisation falls.

Even Kafka could not have come up with the idea that 'It's a good day to bury bad news.' Only out of the mouth of a spin doctor .....

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