December 20th 2016

Today I wrote a poem about the news media and it’s insatiable thirst for tragedy. It’s called: The Revolution Will Be Livestreamed



Within minutes of pulling the trigger, I found it on twitter

A photo of a man with a gunshot wound in his chest, no bullet proof vest, no time to rest

Seconds later there was video, on Facebook Live, on Vimeo

Five minutes between death and publication to the nation

The world, the planet

Who consume it on phones and on tablets, whilst acting out their daily habits

The end of a life, from the tip of a knife to the tips of fingers with no time to linger

From the bullet of a gun, to your wife and your son on their newsfeeds and timelines

A man led on the floor with no lifeline, the video uploaded to Vine

The killer still breathing, the hole in his breast still bleeding

And if you’re watching or reading, they’re succeeding, misleading

The Sun, The Mail, The Star, tmblr, twttr, and flckr

So you can share and like while the fifth Reich drop an air strike


Reads the news channel ticker tape that borders the bottom

Of CNN, BBC, ITV, our fallen man forgotten

Because something else has happened, that needs to be examined

In clickbait headers, by repeat offenders who secretly pray for tragedy

Because tragedy, in reality, is a loss of mortality,

Is a loss of morality, our capacity to appreciate the gravity

Of a man being shot dead on live television is blurred by the fact that

Someone else has been murdered by the time that

You’ve finished reading the article or watching the Periscope

The scope of a sniper, ready to strike in Aleppo in Syria

It’s serious, but only for a minute, wait for tweets from the Senate

Who mourn the tragedy, The Catastrophic Loss of Life

But tragedy is only tragedy until the next one comes along, right?


The Revolution Will Be Livestreamed



Until tomorrow, The Revolution Will Be Livestreamed.


3 thoughts on “Revolution

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