Growth of sales, not steep, in U.K.'s retail halls,
By but 2.7 it did ascend, in the Autumn's cool squall.
Despite inflation's meek retreat, still the coinage falls,
Under pressure, households meet, the high living's toll.

Then rose the oil from Earth's depths, and stocks of war did climb,
After Israel suffered death, in its hardest time.
In these tremors that upset, the markets yet did shine,
S&P, Nasdaq, Dow, no plunging bells did chime.

Last, speaks the Chief of CNN, to his scribes across the land,
Our game must shift, and then again, for 'tis digital that stands.
The old TV, once our friend, can now no more command,
False equivalence, balance's end, distractions we must disband.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur