There is a Sundial at the Berkeley Pier

asking God for the time;

returned Rolex

with tags on instead

“Too Loud,”

she says

and I can relate -

sleeping inside

a grandfather's clock

submerged in half

the financial district

4k/monthly     bathroom included

wall to wall

for the job to IPO

          margin walkers

forehead scaled

overhead so feared

necks crane to

cranes in the sky

tent city

sunken / illuminated

 just the same

“that one guy, you ‘member”

they’ll say at the gates,

1848 years from infinity and

I still couldn't find parking

walked into traffic

to find pearls

measured / illuminated / prophesied

just the same

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Ceilings

the opacity of this ceiling chaps my

fingertips / cursors bend nail into

molded ergo palms / cryogenic my posture

feels in this precursor to automated everything

we are the user experience engendered from

board room to elevator to catered buffet to 401(k) workshop

this ceiling’s ventilation was acquired after the third tech boom

inherited from wartime computerization / DoD contracts /

post-war plans for GI class / this motherboard has

a licensed Jim Crow affiliate in Pleasanton / an antebellum

offshore account in Argentina 

we have been the industry

driven by data for years (now) it’s handheld

to our optimized touch

this ceiling is in

my back pocket

the tip of my nose / it smells

like two hundred year old insulation;

like my next breath.

Meter

seen souls fly from subsidized

cafeteria to cross-team conference

calls muted voices better suited

for suits over faux casual fatigues

this is the end of the line

of the freeways turned metros

that imminent domain’d the kids

we projected initial crushes upon

deadbolt golden locks at Metro’s end

hang framed labor taxman to activist

claim make Struggle™ necessary

click-informed every employer

from Silicon to Telecom

upon digital application:        

yes, “Hispanic-Latino”

          no, not a veteran of assigned wars

                    no, no illnesses metamorphosize

                              into hour less points of sky

                              tightening chest cavities away

                              this other half of my heart

yes no no

check yes no no

every morning

slow hands scream

clock in

apply

someone else’s

time

‍