Some eminent person said
we all have seconds of fame;
these days public humiliation
seems to be the same.
They shamble on the stage
in all shapes and sizes
to blurt out their stories
with very few surprises.
Sometimes with a smile,
more often with a shout
he drags every detail
of each sordid tale out.
And the audience sit
as if glued in place,
various smug or superior
expressions on each face.
They wait with bated breath
for the bit they seem to like best
as the results are read out
of DNA or lie detector tests.
Sometimes they squirm,
sometimes they try
to insist the results
are in themselves a lie.
The maestro struts up down
playing to the camera lens,
milking every moment
this most virtuous of men.
With the collapse of decent values
and the churches in such decline
perhaps this is the new confessional,
publicly on TV, or secretly online.
