I am the headline pushed from the page,
   below the middle-fold I go, I slink away,
today's news is tomorrows gone

the culture's amnesia settles in; now settle down 
   whilst we settle and saddle up

Where did all the blue skies go,
poison is the wind that blows
from the north, south, and east...

More famine than feast of late,
   and hate runs rampant o'er the ramparts,
I hear the ram's horn, a reveille,
   a first call to true wake-up

Make me wanna holler
the way they do my life...

You and I are no longer 

Justice - 
   her eyes wide-open
      her blindness cured
discerns shapes
   dark and mercurial

"All the unseen news that's fit we don't print."

Are things really getting better, like the newspaper said,
what else is new my friend, besides what I read...

cc: Chagall, Marvin
Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On" turns 50