News of the Killings

A war rages on, on two fronts, three or more. The world is a wave crashing upon swords, or so I am told. Yet the tea in my teacup does not tremble to the thud and scream of shells, my easy chair is not stained with the flesh of the slain. In the garden songbirds do not shake with fear. Headlines bellow. People are marching to God knows where, a passionate ignorance betraying their cause. Those wars never draw near, this talk of blood and death seems but a talking point, a furfure over spilled milk. A rap singer dies of an overdose, a beloved cat falls ill but recovers. Fools are still fools. The price of bacon is outrageous, another Bachelorette's heart is broken, yet her made-up face and life carry on. Slippers still warm my feet just the same as they always do. So, what's new with you?