Errors and misfortunes freely
broadcast across unregulated
airspace
for all to see. And devour.

No space, no time for indignation.
No place for pride, nor gentlemen
worthy
of such ambition.

Nothing remains safe or sacred
in the mesh of sound bites and
sensationalism.
Nothing is permanent.

Except for the scars. Nothing is
everything and then
not at all.
It is all about the power.

All concepts requiring brave
thought overshadowed by a
corrupt few
recklessly tending to so many.

Politics, like commerce, once an
honorable vocation. Now a lowly
blood sport.
We continue watching, transfixed.

Withered victims writhe upon society’s
sidewalks of faith and hope.
Promises
promised. Promises passed over.

Collateral damage in everyone’s
war. A domestic crisis where
nothing
is everything it once was.

©2014 j.g. lewis