ode to newspapers
(for the boomers)
toppled trees brought straight to the kitchen table
or divan or recliner or the stack in the garage
to fill the recycle bin or the fireplace
to assuage the guilt of consumption of
what’s happening that somebody somewhere
wants known, sold, bartered, exposed, named, held
for a time as oatmeal bursts its oozy bubbles on the gas stove
and the tea kettle relieves itself of steam to sound the dramatic
call for comfort from outside to inside,
the mmmmmm feelings of morning,
and that newspaper, a sidewalk promise retrieved like some treasure,
landed right here, right now, in the plastic wrap to keep the rain out
because everyone knows the mess of wet pages and
how the ink stains the hand
and the sheets are impossible to separate and what’s the use of hanging the
whole damn Section A out on the line when … well,
the news will return again tomorrow…
Oh, Bringer of the Outside In, thank you for
showing off what’s hot and what’s not,
what’s blowing up and what’s closing in, what’s fast fleeting and
what’s making people forget all those worries if
they just had themselves a new washing machine or storage shed and
for saving the funnies for the end to wash clean of
every get this want that advertisement and
every woe is us headline and
let’s just take a minute with Ziggy and Peanuts and B.C. and
Hagar the Horrible and Doonesbury and Garfield and Far Side…
sure, the news was a day old and marketing was rampant,
sure, the editorial board bias was clear in every placement, angle and edge,
sure, the puzzles were light and addictive and
a relief from the stuff of argument,
sure, the classifieds rarely held that surprise,
that perfect job, that lost kitten found,
that antique mirror that would look nice over the mantle…
Chronicles and Times and Registers and Posts,
thank you for giving me a reason to rest and
let myself feel a part of something bigger in the early morning hours
when everyone else in the house was still behind
a closed bedroom door. . . .
. . . .double-clicking for an op-ed in the glow of a screen
just ain’t the same thing.
