Dear Television Reporter,
You with the dimples
And killer hair,
With a face for every occasion,
Did you know
The camera was on you
When you relaxed your shoulders-
When it was just a job-
And for a couple seconds
You even appeared glad?
“This just made my career!”
Oh good for you!
You will have that raise in your contract.
Never mind the gaps in your coverage-
Those odd moments of silence
In which people’s worlds were crumbling
And your teleprompter was blank
So you just sat there looking pretty.
“There, there. This is compassion.
This pains me entirely.
One step closer
To my Pulitzer.”
You couldn’t be an actor.
You were too glossy to be a model.
If you were a woman,
Everyone would just assume
You slept with someone to get the job.
Do you think we are all lambs?
Baa! Shepherd, enlighten us
With your pastures of sensationalism.
Didn’t you know
Some of us still have feelings?
But you ride on the backs of those in pain
And pretend it’s in our best interest.
Yes, you exploit our weakest moments
And then you cash the check.
So now go to your upper-middle class neighborhood
And tell yourself
“I make a difference.”