Poems and Poetry

Reporter | A Poem by J.K. Durick

I’d be one of those reporters, like in those old movies
Middle-aged, rumpled, world-weary, cynical, always
Sitting in a black and white bar with a bunch of his
Cronies, a bit drunk, trading gossip and loyalties, forever
Looking for a “scoop,” the big story that would save him
From all this, move him from being just a background
Character, a foil for the leading man’s idealistic views;
I’d be a William Frawley or Thomas Mitchell type
Playing secondary lead, a little down the credits but
A necessary part, a noticeable part, a cigar smoking guy
With a drink in his other hand, dispensing street-smart
Wisdom to the new guy, the naïve, better-cut one who
In the end gets the girl or the big break or a lesson learned
Or taught, just as “the end” rolls by and lights come up and
The audience goes out once again with the wrong impression
Of all this, the bigger story that’s so easy to miss.



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