Your Poetry Dot Com - What The Fox Knows The Fox Shows

What the Fox knows the Fox shows.
Victorious from the media fight cage with the masses as prize;
Vox Populi short, Cerebrum Populi the goal-
(If we say be happy they'll relish the role )

The Light bulb burns.

A soft walnuted tap, a carpeted softness
imparting news to a back in deep muse.
“Excuse me; all here and ready”.

“Thank you”; a nod and turn from the room.

“Boys, we are in the wedding business.
The groom is the same- always will be,
those consumers; our target, watching TV.
The post season bride can wear any number of clothes,
and who that bride is, (a few do, wink wink) nobody knows-
There'll be weddings a plenty, a nuptial orgy,
every October we crank the machine.
The finale, a magna nuptialem
of the public and
the last standing team.
Here's how we do it.
Roll up your sleeves- let's get to it.”

A win has happened, (not THE win) with the night's Bride selected.
A giant victory, a capital defeat.
Time for the victors and champaign to meet!
The wedding planner well practiced, all well in hand;
Some not all know their parts as part of the plan.
(Players, producers, potatoes couching all through the land).

Wedding staff planners invisible, (no need to meet them),
“All cameras stay on those glorious men!”

“Let's go! Let's move!, you millionaire wonders!
The stands are sans fans, the champaign room in plastic and ready-
Stay steady. Remember! One page, one script;
Now slap on your happy, we're not yet done,
You signed a contract, so make this look FUN!”

The celebration room rocks...the circus created.
Men jump in joy- (twenty minutes at least)
couch cushions bounce coast to coast (a feel good feast),
sharing vicariously the victory toast- (Forget your troubles...raise that beer!).
willingly cast- interactive in here, part of what they just watched-
Millions play to perfection, quite unbeknownst-
(If self-awareness kicks in, the whole show is botched).

Analyzers analyse. Cameras steady night and day.
A nibble of news on a player gulped like fillet.

“I said.....shut that kid up! I can't hear what they say!”

Back in the party room...heroes come from the field.

Just seconds before the bonhomie began;
“Champaign! Champaign! Rowdy please! Jumping please!
This is it! This is it!
Cameras on, and........transmit!”

This poem is Copyright ยฉ Invierno