There is no news today Today, no news How strangely New today Without the shouting In the White House The president hums The Stars and Stripes forever When making love To his wife Or almost anyone With a dose of fluoxetine Hair blown thin as gossamer By his compassionate dreams Of all out thermo-nuclear War An unfolding morning chrysanthemum To atone for countless misdemeanours In the quiet of apocalypse day You can still dance with yourself If you keep An appropriate distance The Holy Spirit in between As you said, the Mercies used to say Before they gave it up For poetry and bingo Seventy-seven Gone to heaven Seventy-eight Heaven’s gate With no one left to venerate We all are martyred now
