I do not want a “journalist” reading me tweets.
I don’t want them to repeat,
what someone, somewhere typed on their phone.
While sitting on their toilet in their homes.
I don’t want a politician updating their Facebook page
making the news.
I want the Evening News with Walter Cronkite.
I want nine public channels that are free with no remote.
I want the same sitcoms we all watched.
I want the same news that we all clocked.
Between the hours of dinner time and nine.
I want the T.V. to turn off on time.
I want the emergency broadcasting signal to play.
Then the T.V. to turn into static and release us from its spell.
Honey, let’s talk, what happened today.
As we took our eyeballs off the glow box.
This is nostalgia of a better time.
A time when the news was not spun.
When the country was not torn apart by partisan lies
told by people in their business suits for disguise.
Playing truth tellers with a code of ethics to realize.
To ask the hard questions to politicians who avoid answers.
Politicians who flip-flop from one station to the next.
Who tell us different stories depending on the context.
I do not want to have to curate the news.
To fact-check it to see who is lying, hoping I hit snooze.
Is it too much to ask journalists to play by the rules?
A code they all pledged to when paying their dues.
In undergraduate school while seeking their first story.
With dreams of being published once and maybe finding glory.