Lament Of The Online Journalist

Pity the poor web writer

Today I had to write about Ken Bone
I knew before I saw it on my phone
The text that said “I’m looking at the trends
And noting what I’m hearing from my friends — 
We’re going to need a post about Ken Bone”

Today I had to write about Ken Bone
It’s not the greatest shame I’ve ever known
(Nothing tops my having to assess
Who had the smartest take about The Dress)
But still, I feel a deep urge to atone

Today I had to write about Ken Bone
And even though I’m far from being alone
The guilt and self-loathing are piled so high
I might write a quiz on the best way to die
I bet my readers vote for death by drone

I’m sorry that you have to hear me moan
But how can someone claim to be all grown
When his job is so goddamn infantile
Predictable, shabby and juvenile
He has to turn out posts about Ken Bone

I’d like to smash my head in with a stone
My sense of hatred is so fully blown
I’d love to pour gas on the Internet
Ignite the whole thing with a cigarette
And laugh and say, “Fuck you, you’re on your own”

It’s a beautiful dream that will never come true
So there isn’t a lot else I have here to do
I’ve shown you my soul and you know my despair
That’s all that I am now, so please like and share
Today I had to write about Ken Bone

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