When the Fourth Estate Became the Fifth Column

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When the Fourth Estate Became the Fifth Column

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When the Fourth Estate Became the Fifth Column When the Fourth Estate Became the Fifth Column

Poem by: Philip Roberts

Genre: Literary Fiction

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Poem by: Philip Roberts

Details

Genre: Literary Fiction

Houses:

Summary

Australian law requires the news media to be impartial at election time. In 2010 before an election the media blew this out of the water, by prostituting themselves to Kevin Rudd, inviting him to perform like a trained seal on every TV show imaginable. This came unstuck though, when Rudd's fundamentally loathsome nature meant that his own party dumped him for a new leader, who just scraped in.

Summary

Australian law requires the news media to be impartial at election time. In 2010 before an election the media blew this out of the water, by prostituting themselves to Kevin Rudd, inviting him to perform like a trained seal on every TV show imaginable. This came unstuck though, when Rudd's fundamentally loathsome nature meant that his own party dumped him for a new leader, who just scraped in.

Content

Submitted: January 29, 2011

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Content

Submitted: January 29, 2011

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Evil through their every move
And evil in their every word,
Their evil fouls electoral booths
By fawning to the psycho-nerd.

Impartiality has flown this land
To never greet us ever more,
Corruption always near at hand
As Rove builds up the psycho-boor.

A stewardess reduced to tears
As bloody Ruddy throws a fit,
As polling time most surely nears
O what a crime they do commit.

As Psycho-Kev departs our shores
Taking yet another world cruise,
They’re foully building up this fiend
To guarantee he shall not lose.

Nine-hundred pieces of fools’ gold
Were paid to procure many whores,
And so corruption does take hold
And like a plague sweeps ‘cross our shores.

Smiling broadly like a child
A yellow-haired woman-basher grins,
Pretending now he’s meek and mild
The media forgets his many sins.

Heaven help
Australia when
Election time does next come round,
The Fourth Estate is his best friend
So truth and justice are not found.

They seek him here; there seek him there
But the smiling buffoon cannot be found,
His winging luxuriously through the air
Holidaying soon on distant grounds.

Still the media spreads his lies
As the psycho-boor takes to the air,
As in first class he surely flies
Our missing leader is nowhere.

Recriminations brim through my mind
Of things I wish that I could say,
But searching nowhere could I find
For Psycho-Kev has gone, gone, gone away.

THE END
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts


© Copyright 2016 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.

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