Broken Pieces

By Millicent Borges Accardi

All was if and maybe and meanwhile. The chorus
sang full of weed, a reflection on the acoustics
in the church, and–when does it ever seem all right–
When will that be again? The empirical
wish of a stupid requirement for happiness. Was that
what it was? And, they lived happily ever after is the phrase
perhaps you were looking for, a timid cool minute inside
your head when you used to believe otherwise, back in the slow
when time when it was not the new normal and, man,
it is not just us; it is global and inflated and then you know
it is terrifying,  Did they take a census this year? 2020.
America, I seem to remember ten years ago
the government wanted to know our household income,
and what we did for a living.
This year? The form was all about age and race
and you could fill in whatever “other” you wanted. 
Like a weakness, a mere description of how it was not
supposed to be.

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Millicent Borges Accardi has received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), Fulbright, CantoMundo, California Arts Council, Barbara Deming “Money for Women,” and Fundação Luso-Americana (FLAD). Most recent poetry book, Only More So (Salmon). IG and Twitter @TopangaHippie.