COVID is back
Those so formed
by Covid-tide
Distance,
speaking to empty funeral homes,
Yet another
video spoken into the void,
Even gospel
gobbled up by the single dull distorting, yet reflective, eye,
Of our black
mirrors.
Now I see the
former,
things, that
dangerous time.
It reappears as
a fresh reaper,
replaying at
inopportune times.
This time,
returning recklessly at a snowstorm.
Canceled events
and quickly snaggled anxiety
Expressed in
outrage.
It is our awful
emptiness
being so alone
in a nation of millions,
All so
frenetically alone.
The Déjà vu of
no support or solidarity or simply connecting the dots
Instead society
slicing itself up
Non-reckoning with
violent consequences
Of violent
policies.
Stuck at home,
seeing clashes in our streets
Consequences.
Consequences of
choices.
Do not lie, at
least not too often.
This is what we
chose.
Ice thick
violence
George Floyd
Good and Pretti
Minnesota cold
Camera
capturing again
Our failure to
imagine
Imagine a world
where peace reigns
Where the pieces
are put back together
Where the rough
reality of life is lifted up
Examined, and empathized
with
Taken seriously
As seriously as
we take quack conspiracies
And fringe fanatics
All that is old
is new again
What once was,
is and shall be.
Turn turn turn.
Gyres of our
wretched hearts
Perhaps we must
lean into the skid,
Point not to
the target, but to the solid blacktop.
