[Newspoetry] Broadcasting Skeleton Words

[DL Emerick]

Broadcasting Skeleton Words

 

I can't make cross words, 

No matter how my thoughts are crossed,

No matter how cross I am.

 

Yet, I do cross word puzzles,

Of the simpler crossing kinds,

If terms are not so *esoteric*,

Nor teasing hints too arcane.

 

Speaking follows such thinking,

Connects with this, that to that.

 

By their fragments,

I can perceive bodies of words hidden,

Bare bones showing.

 

You can do piece puzzles,

That's what is so puzzling,

Reconstructing dinosaurs,

>From bone-yard creek beds.

 

News chants current history,

Of 10-O'Clock poet anchors.

 

*--------*

 

E-motions?

E-mail me.

 

Anchors stoically gaze,

speak, as if unmoved,

showing no human sign,

of love nor of hate,

at horror at war,

or cruel poverty.

 

What happens then?

World imitates art,

The world becomes indifferent,

Those who live become callous,

Too cautious to show a feeling,

Lest they be thought unrefined,

Not in control of their feelings.

 

Only when his anchor dropped,

did I too late and little learn,

that Walter Cronkite cared,

about what was cross in life;

his heart was sorely crossed,

but his heart stayed hidden.

 

And that's the news.

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