ay-dee-dee

Every time a body is
pulled, breathing, from the
rubble, hopes soar and
people, entranced by their own
lives and struggles and challenges, stop
and pray and, if nothing more,
keep a thought of hope alive. But they’ve
finished pulling live bodies
from
the
wreckage, which means that soon many,
if not most, will turn their heads back to their
own lives, not to be disturbed,
again,
until the next catastrophe breaks into
this season’s American Idol. 9/11: now,
mostly forgotten. Katrina: left to those who
are working
there
with their hands. Afghanistan: Huh? Iraq: What?
This shooting.
That one.
The human heart is a fickle thing, now,
if not having always been. Our
attention span is from
wreckage to wreckage, a nation
of
ADDers. Think about
that for, well, at least a minute,
during the commercial
breaks.