Let's workshop this poem about the complex interplay between mechanical and natural rhythms in human life through a lens of estrangement versus belonging.
Sunrise Alarm
Clockwork regimentation
may estrange us from rhythms
baked in long enough
to deserve the title
“organic,” but it—thrusting us
into modes, habitats, beyond
“dream time”—estranges us
never from natural rhythms
nothing can fail to have.
“We need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”—Kafka (against the safe-space cancel culture pushed by anti-art bullies, left and right)