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Quieting my gaze invites a smoky aura from the aspen
—an augur for allowing
what can’t be anticipated.
An attentiveness to this world can excavate,
rather than fill,
the depths of my five senses.
An ear, as a cavity, might attune to its own empty space
and thereby grow more familiar with
the resonances in other absences.
Offering the existent world as mirror
to its inexistent other half, I watch
how this alters what comes into view.
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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.