J
John Fields
Guest
A rather low power "reporter" lashed out
whenever his "edicts" were questioned, no doubt
because of the thought that his crown'd be upset
and bring a quick end to his world of regret.
Regret for not having done that well in school
in courses he'd later use to try to fool
an audience he wanted so much to impress
but found, quite chagrined, all he got was redress.
He'd pitch an "idea", which would then be shot down,
by anyone's 'rithmetic, making him frown.
He'd fix that by casting his critic as dim,
as if that would be enough to discredit him.
But everyone mostly considered the source
and knew that what came from the mouth of that horse
was what, should have been, plopping out from the rear;
the content of both being identically near.
His logical skills also seemed to be wan
preferring instead his opinions to don
as if they were raiments of beauty and truth
when tatters and rags was what they were, forsooth.
And then there's the matter of trolling and scams
and of our reporter, a "shepherd" of lambs.
He says, and of course, why deny that it's true
since it's dogs' clothes you see when the wolf's not in view.
His howling is really what gives him away
and also his statements that others just bray
in asserting the hogwash he posts to entrap
is for those who can't see that he's just full of crap.
And then what's he do when confronted with facts?
Sure, he sidesteps and dodges and goes for his axe
which he swings around wildly, making lots of chips fly
in hopes when they fall that they'll cover his lie.
And so we now come to the end of this tome,
a small work, a part of a much larger pome
describing the whole of our reporter's life
which sadly seems filled with not much more than strife.
JF
whenever his "edicts" were questioned, no doubt
because of the thought that his crown'd be upset
and bring a quick end to his world of regret.
Regret for not having done that well in school
in courses he'd later use to try to fool
an audience he wanted so much to impress
but found, quite chagrined, all he got was redress.
He'd pitch an "idea", which would then be shot down,
by anyone's 'rithmetic, making him frown.
He'd fix that by casting his critic as dim,
as if that would be enough to discredit him.
But everyone mostly considered the source
and knew that what came from the mouth of that horse
was what, should have been, plopping out from the rear;
the content of both being identically near.
His logical skills also seemed to be wan
preferring instead his opinions to don
as if they were raiments of beauty and truth
when tatters and rags was what they were, forsooth.
And then there's the matter of trolling and scams
and of our reporter, a "shepherd" of lambs.
He says, and of course, why deny that it's true
since it's dogs' clothes you see when the wolf's not in view.
His howling is really what gives him away
and also his statements that others just bray
in asserting the hogwash he posts to entrap
is for those who can't see that he's just full of crap.
And then what's he do when confronted with facts?
Sure, he sidesteps and dodges and goes for his axe
which he swings around wildly, making lots of chips fly
in hopes when they fall that they'll cover his lie.
And so we now come to the end of this tome,
a small work, a part of a much larger pome
describing the whole of our reporter's life
which sadly seems filled with not much more than strife.
JF