caesura

The fact that there was no news
was news. The anchor looked bored,
fiddled with her hair, fussed
with the papers in front of her,
stacking and restacking the sheets that are
always empty.

The newspapers resorted
to stories about school sports; forgot to update the Website.
CNN got into their archived human-interest stories,
and finally decided to play a tape of The Sound of Music.

The weather was so pleasant in Bethlehem
that they took a day off from hostilities
and celebrated all the birthdays that had been missed recently.

There were no beheadings, accidental or otherwise.
Husbands decided to storm out rather than grab the gun.
A CEO decided for the first time in his life to try pot;
instead of driving home after his fifth whiskey
he stayed put, giggling.

Grandpa hung in there one more day.
A burn victim got more morphine and retreated
farther into the healing haze.

Dictators all over the world slept late,
woke up in good moods,
rescheduled the executions for tomorrow.

Children fell and broke their arms rather than their necks.
Suicides hesitated, wondering if there was something important left undone.

Hearts all over the planet kept on beating.

That's the news
goodnight.