it comes over and across
just as you would have wished it
the idiot voice
stretching its syllables
in a long yawn
over the airwaves
announcing its doom
in the placid valley
it means nothing
nor beside the bay
in the city too perhaps
its unwarranted conclusions
meet with no review
from any journalist worth reading
under that created light
but the record shows
otherwise
Christopher Mulrooney's poems and translations in Perihelion, Brooklyn Review, The East Village, Folio, Euphony, Sojourn, The Northridge Review, Fire, Poetry and Audience, Frank, Litspeak, Poetry Salzburg Review, Quarterly Literary Review of Singapore, Renditions, Tiger, Cordite, etc.