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Shots fired

the moment it's a rumour it must be true
the moment it's a moment it's more so
the sudden unleashing of opinion
the framing of narratives

is it unfair to say the hope?
hands poised above archetypes
going ahead anyway
circling round the story

closing in on yet more evidence
the fierce thrill of certainties
another line to be repeated
another set of certainties

the embryonic story poked
examined and loved, so
loved, maybe even lusted
after and so precious, here see

the quiet tears of the stillbirth
the heads turned away
the phones turned off
the relentless shifting of paragraphs

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