Thursday, 22 February 2007


The Daily Malice.

Any of the daily papers could be called the Daily Malice.
I quick peek inside you drink from a poison chalice.
Really happy , truthful stories are few and far between
If it has a happy ending it's not so likely to be seen.

A blazing inch high headline when discovered to be wrong,
Becomes a small retraction about twenty centimetres long.
If one paper prints a story for a lot of cash
The others all decry it and call the story trash.

I'd like to give them all up and throw them in the bin
But then I wouldn't get my crossword and that would be a sin.
So I skim across the malice and the sportsmen who have strayed,
The stories from the palace, all the boobies they have made.

I go quickly to the crossword, the bit I never miss,
There I wallow for a while and that's my Daily Bliss.

Jill West.