Kylie's pubes

Kylie's pubes

I wonder if the man exists
to judgement void
the journalists

they would need
in life it seems
a moral framework
without seams

and each encounter
that they fix
would first be passed
through MI6

their enemies should
scarce contain
the venom
of a window pane

all love would be
immersed in salts
to bleach the flesh
of any faults

no words erupt
that were ever free
of bland inert
humility

the heights they reach
must not obtain
a single jot
of doubt or blame

the man who passes
journalists
must live a life
we'd rather miss

but I'd defend
their right to ask
to death I'd go
for freedom's task

so journalists
can bring us truth
on Kylie's pubes
and stunnah Ruth

So these assassins
of the false
will plow this course
for all of us

and yes there's times
when it looks cruel
the quarry's yelps
a heartstring's tool

but that's just acting
we all know
the ruined lives
are just a show

thank goodness then
that hacks seem pure
their days
a mesmerising bore

how else could I
explain to you
that their own lives
are out of view