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Opening sounds of blackbirds everywhere
everywhere in the day lost in sun
opening the screen doors of summer
blackbirds aglitter in afternoon haze
all day long riding a fiddlehead
in Mahler excess calling thither
The TV screen afterlife reflects trees outside
jets overhead in the yard
I am powerless in the air
after the stock report before jeopardy
the table laid out our hopes laid out
I wanted the screen door of summer
a dew drop gazing ball
utopia bent and snapping
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Both regulators and employers have embraced new technologies for on-the-job monitoring, turning a blind eye to unjust working conditions.
But I do miss the hymns, / the small, hard apples with their dimpled skin. I do miss / things.
The vast hinterlands of the Global South’s cities are generating new solidarities and ideas of what counts as a life worth living.