Continental Divide

Thomas Quitzau

January 17, 2021

[on the occasion of

the swearing in of

one imperfect servant]

The crests and craggy majesties separate

A continent never unified and only recently 

United by $15 million, a few wars, hasty 

Annexation stitched together by tracks 

Tying seams with tensions of two worlds 

Splitting elevations.

Barefoot more than not, concerned more with 

Hummingbirds than political flamethrowers, 

The underfunded military, embarrassed 

Ambassadors racing ahead of the contrails 

Above the spinning lands floating, sinning on 

Seas molten.

We’ve stared into rectangular worlds and seen 

Both sides at once, simultaneously split screen 

Symbolic of our two lands, contrasted— 

Contrarily lagging literally logging time unchanged 

Saving daylight basking Arizona scene—

Life in four dimensions.

Coronal retentive pretenders, 

Masquerading attenders, world leaders

Following media’s mediocre rendition

Neglecting those truly in need, seeing

“The Big Picture” at the expense of 

The hungry…

The lowly…

The little ones…

Un-united,

Dis-invited,

Zooming one-and-all

The empty National Mall.

Thomas Quitzau is a poet and teacher who grew up in the Gulf Coast region and who worked for over 30 years in Houston, Texas. A survivor of Hurricane Harvey, he recently wrote a book entitled Reality Showers, and currently teaches and lives on Long Island, New York with his wife and children.