We say, “I fell down the internet.” What that means is, I just spent more time searching for the ideal version of this thing I want to buy than I spent eating/praying/talking with my partner/watching my cat play/reading/exercising/commuting all last week. I’ve learned I can’t afford the ideal, but also the less than ideal is made in a factory that exploits workers/probably children/hurts the environment and is possibly made of chemicals that leech into water/are absorbed by crops/poison pollinators and also cause cancer/change the average age of puberty/make it harder for wildlife to reproduce. The makers of this less than ideal version have paid governments and the media to make it seem like none of that is real. The ideal version, too, contributes to global warming. This thing I wanted now seems both too awful to get, and impossible to live without. What I need and want most is my hours back to spend meditating/reading/baking/making love/volunteering/ writing this poem.

video call
surfing light flashes
across your face

Bio: Deb Baker