Paul Georgiou
The News on TV
I was seated one day
with my mind far away
and my eyes mesmerised by the box I despised
when my sanity stumbled
recovered then crumbled;
the thing I most cherished had finally perished
as I sat in the den
at one minute to ten
on the night that my brain succumbed to the strain.
There I was, as I said,
having gone off my head,
defeated I clung to the arms of my chair,
when the telly stood up
and proffered a cup
of laxative mixed with Heineken beer.
As I drank and then farted
the ‘News at Ten’ started.
Well what could I do but see what was new?
‘Absurd,’ you declare,
‘If your mind had gone spare
then surely you’d never, your mind gone forever,
remain in your chair
and hark to with care,
much less to wish to see, the News on TV?’
You forget, my dear friend,
I was ill at each end,
insane and half-pissed, and my bowels in a twist.
So I stayed where I was
quite simply because
the news on the box should never be missed.
The News At Ten
‘The Trades Unions make an offer, the employers have rejected.
The Prime Minister is lonely; body odour is suspected.
Hypothermia is harnessed to control the population
and the police are now enforcing the ban on copulation
(though confusion has arisen in the Parliamentary Lobbies
since the law was to discourage sex between consenting Bobbies).
A call girl of most high renown resigns from her profession
for lying with a Minister throughout an all-night session
“If bread’s becoming pricey,” a quote from the Queen Mother,
“instead of knocking monarchy, why don’t they eat each other?”
A late night flash - two comets enter orbit around Venus,’
whereat the newscaster unzipped and showed his balls and penis.
End Of News
At this I decided
(the beer had subsided
and the laxative trouble had burst in a bubble)
that a man who’s insane
must do more than complain.
I prepared to destroy once
for all this annoyance.
With calm, controlled manner
I picked up a spanner,
moved away from my chair,
from the very spot where
my once healthy mind
had slowly declined
and I shattered the screen where the News had just been.
I had won. It was dead.
Then from nowhere it said;
“Please do not forget to switch off your head”.