Apathy, oh apathy.

Some days I’m embarrassed,

to say that I’m part of this

culture, this species, this

homo-genus.

Other days I’m impressed

with our accomplishments

and my chest swells with

awed pride.

Most days I’m shocked by

the apathy.  The momentary

horror forgotten in the blink of

a celebrity break-up or kitten picture.

Too quickly we forget our terrors,

in the hopes that if we ignore them,

they’ll just go away like that bully that

never really went away. We went away.

We never solved it, we just moved on.

We just went somewhere new,

got a new bully, got away from them,

but had to enter adulthood never beating it.

The 239 year adolescence of America needs

to end. Time to enter our adulthood. Time to

face our fears and force them to answer for

how they’ve bullied us.

If we can remember for that long, that is,

the national ADD crisis is a pandemic,

horrors at breakfast are forgotten by

dinner.

It makes me want to wretch. It makes me feel

shame. It makes me want to forget too.

I’ve done what I can, for now, I’ve expressed

my sorrow, my anger to those that might listen.

And I expect nothing to come of it,

but more shame and sorrow, pain and

anger, bitter divisiveness and overflowing

ignorance.