Service: In the Proper Adaptable Format

byMeredith Rivlin

My hands grazed the keyboard resting
making the distinct clicking and twitching
sound of idling fingers.

(Working hands, though.
These are my hands.
They are privileged hands.)

And I worked and clicked and spoke and
eased my own conscious back
into consciousness where productivity
also lies.
I practiced selflessness while clicking “send/
receive” in hopes of 20 new emails addressed
to me personally
with questions I could answer and people
I could convince.

Open minds and opportunities will
take the place of littered envelopes
(remnants of a culture of desire)
and broken sidewalk glass
(whose contents is used to forget selves and ease fears
as we lay awake
next to someone who might just
know the answers to
questions we lay
awake trying to forget,
like are we really special and where does that fit in?)

Working visions.
These are my visions.
They are out there and
unspecific and cliché.

And they feed off of devotion and passion,
though we think we have enough,
and get swallowed by cynicism and
another explanation
or excuse
of our generation.