Return to Normal

Years from now,
when I am gone
but my lockup colleagues remain,
you will try,
through data analysis,
to formulate a question
that will help us understand
just
what happened.

You must be careful
to use your word skills:
no room for political 
policy statements
here.

What happened?
What didn’t we do?
Why were we so slow
to stop the spread,
but focussed instead,
on controlling the message.

Assigning blame allowed us
to ignore action
until
it was
far
far 
far
too late.

Let your future
give us an answer
that will not further alienate,
     will not further confuse,
but offer
some slight glimmer
of comprehension,
and of
Hope,
in an uncertain Tomorrow.

Lockdown

...and I have become
more threatened
more enfeebled
more focussed on the micro
letting the macro monster roam free
and out of my mind

...and I have developed mechanisms
whereby
I do not think ahead
I do not anticipate
I do not speculate
but by this diverse,
and constricting,
route
I avoid tomorrow

change will come
but it will be a nuanced change
a change of social consciousness
a change fomented today
while we are locked down
in our various ways
in our varied lives
waiting
to go slowly forward
into 
our 
shared
tomorrow...

Washing My Hands

It all comes down to this, then.
Manic hand cleansing:

no beseeching of the uncaring gods:
no besmirching of immigration policies:
no longing for other days that
forever
have passed.


We share, with our cleansing routine,
a commonality 
that long has been lost,
if
     it
          ever
                    existed
at all.

The parameters have been reset.
The future is ours
for
     the 
               making.

Be secure in your loneliness,
knowing,
                 paradoxically,
that you are not 
                                                        alone.

Count to tomorrow,
then simply
scrub
again.

Repeat.