Bad News

The news is bad: three dogs were bitten twice
By large rampaging beavers from the zoo,
Escaped last Thursday morning around two
In golf carts powered by small diesels – nice!
The news remains as bad as ever, vice
Presiding, overweening pride shot through
With savage feelings between me and you,
My soul on fire, your brittle heart like ice.

Sometimes the news is worse: fear, contumely,
Disaster, all the dreams we should have had
Dissolved in bickering. It makes me sad
To learn how we perform: such infamy,
With revelations of discourtesy
And false friends' lies. The news is very bad.