Joshua Keiter

The scattered pieces  
Appear to be broken 

By virtue of 
Their disconnectedness 

From what used to
Take on the appearance 

Of wholeness
For the sake of creation 

Each piece is complete 
Unto itself 

Bringing completeness 
Where once was 

The disconnect of
This holy emptiness 

The entire universe 
A life to be lived 

Out in the open 
Empty and boundless

The fever dreams are starting
To get weird again 

As we enter the time of year 
It was one year ago 

When we had no idea what 
We were in for 

And in many ways still don’t 
Except more Kafkaesque 

As labyrinthine guidelines 
Ebb into nothingness 

Some are not throwing away 
Their shots while others 

Still pack the bistros and bars 
With one open window 

To claim outdoor dining status 
A way to stay in business 

Maybe the new people will 
Figure something out 

To make us more compassionate 
Perhaps even wear a mask

Starting out as they have to 
As we did a year ago 

And continue to since then 
Relentlessly from scratch

Currently the internet 
Is undergoing a cleanse 

Every uploaded image 
Is being repurposed 

With the image of enveloping
Such normcore warmth 

That could only be possible 
By inaugurating wholesomeness 

And dedicating a lifetime 
To the health and care of all 

Recycled fibers for mittens 
Transubstantiating 

The angst and cruelty 
We were laboring under 

Into sheer innocuous 
And seriously understated joy 

Suddenly everywhere 
We least expected to find it 

Somehow impatiently waiting 
For the next item on the itinerary

It may take a few days 
To adjust to 

The idea of competence 
Where once there was 

Only ignorance 
And malice 

Until the chasm is
In full view of

The hindsight of 
This trauma

Will we begin to repair 
The breach

This day there were so many 
Words and coats
Mittens and memes
Smiles and tears 

We could not all be together 
Which we are almost 
Used to by now 
So the parade on TV

Went from one face to another 
With landmarks and places 
Prominently displayed 
Figures in a landscape 

Restored singing through loss
The unimagined not impossible

Graffiti from the insurrection 
Is still visible near the platform 

Where the new president 
Will be inaugurated 

On the night before as
Dusk settles upon the mall

The lights along 
The reflecting pool 

Stain the water clear 
A blank slate refracting 

Untold grief before 
A new passage is written

The true hope 
Is now knowing 

That in the choice 
Between chaos 

And community 
The incoming leaders 

Spent the day 
Feeding the hungry 

Out of an abundance 
Of beloved

The false hope 
Was always that 
Some of us 

Made it through 
Another earlier era 
Proving it was 

Possible to survive 
Yet it was
Not a certainty 

Now that some 
Of us have 
Reached this day 

Though still not 
Quite there yet 
All we can 

Think about is 
Those of us 
Who did not 

Make it through 
And where they 
Would be if

The shock of wondering 
What our ghosts leave behind 
When we move on 
Into a distant closeness 

All the pieces scattered whole 
Across counterfeit verisimilitude 
The picture outside the frame 
Tends to reliable uncertainty 

Knowing this world is ending 
While delaying the new one 
Being born fully grown 
Into our forgotten memories 

What will we say after this 
What light breaks through walls 
Through permanent glass 
The silence of all this noise

We can’t put on mute 
The virus as it mutates 
Around and through us 

Even in motion 
We prefer things stay the same 
So death row persists 

Blink you missed it as
Four thousand pages fly by 
In a film montage 

That depicts one day 
In a life that just repeats 
Without any change 

But this low level 
State of anxiety that 
We can’t wish away 

And mutates in us the same