by Peter Henry
I miss newspaper rubber bands
The useful stash in the kitchen drawer
I miss the thud on the driveway
Promising hours of reading—
Detailed stories, facts, interviews, and opinions
Often fertilized by Deep Throat sources
Dropping follow-the-money clues.
With no heft, no will to fight the empowered villain
Mainstream media caved in to threats and paid $15 million
I miss fact checking and shame heckling
The sting of a snapped rubber band on bare skin
I miss the retreat from deceit
When waved newspapers cleared smoke
From smoldering embers
Tended by nefarious dissemblers
I miss the pink fingers of editorial endorsements
Now dead and blue from binding bands
Stretched over them by fat wealthy hands
The useful stash in the kitchen drawer
I miss the thud on the driveway
Promising hours of reading—
Detailed stories, facts, interviews, and opinions
Often fertilized by Deep Throat sources
Dropping follow-the-money clues.
With no heft, no will to fight the empowered villain
Mainstream media caved in to threats and paid $15 million
I miss fact checking and shame heckling
The sting of a snapped rubber band on bare skin
I miss the retreat from deceit
When waved newspapers cleared smoke
From smoldering embers
Tended by nefarious dissemblers
I miss the pink fingers of editorial endorsements
Now dead and blue from binding bands
Stretched over them by fat wealthy hands
Peter Henry is a retired information technology specialist and former high school English teacher. Besides poems, he writes songs, builds musical instruments, and explores the outdoors. A father and husband, he lives in Northern California with his wife.