Unfinished.

Two nights ago I had a dream that I picked up my friend (Jojo Siwa) at Denver International Airport.
She was dressed like a construction worker with lots of eye makeup like in her Guilty Pleasure music video.
I'm embarrassed that I know this.
Intrusive thoughts even in my subconscious some might say.

I saw three Palestine flags driving down the street in my neighborhood yesterday.
I also saw a clown juggling in the middle of the MLK and Quebec intersection.
Probably kind of dangerous.
But it was entertaining.
I was on my way to the theatre.
Theatre or theater?
Supposedly I spell it the British way.

I'm going to London for half of December.
I needed an electronic travel authorization to get into the UK.
This is new.
Borders are becoming more militarized.
Through tech and through arms.

I’m up in the balcony at this show, and I’m thinking about Abe Lincoln.
At the Ford Theatre.
Honest they called him.
There is nothing worse than a bad fake southern accent.

I’ve been supporting a client with benefits open enrollment this week.
I keep telling the HR person at this organization, “let this experience radicalize you.”
We really shouldn’t be accepting these systems as normal.
Where is our creative imagination to make our collective lives easier?
“Break down silos,” they say.
What even is a silo in the context of knowledge work?
I get it when it’s storing corn.

“Live the life you love” said the bumper sticker I saw just after leaving the parking garage without paying.
The gate was open, and the payment system was blocked with a sign.
So I just drove away.
My lucky day I suppose.

Wednesday I submitted a Colorado Open Records Request for all my Flock data.
I haven’t heard back.
I found out at a community town hall that now the homeless are worried they are being tracked with Flock if they live in their car or an RV.
The police chief used the death of a community member to justify more surveillance in East Colfax.
The mayor recently did this too.
If anything ever happens to me, never let them surveil people in my name.

I drove by the oil refinery on my way home from a Halloween party tonight.
You could really smell the oil this evening.
People live right next to this facility.
The same people who are also getting a data center in their neighborhood.
One with 11 diesel generators in the case of a power outage.
Potential rolling blackouts they keep saying because of the consumption demands on the grid.
More pollution.

It will be November in an hour, and there are still leaves on the trees in front of my house.
They have finally started changing colors, but it really does seem like it’s been warmer longer this year.
Just like every year in the last several.

I guess the stock market just hit a record high this week too.
Just as major companies began laying off tens of thousands of workers.
Anything to create shareholder value.

I’m a shareholder.
Actually, I’m the only shareholder in my consulting business.
That’s why I’m going to London.
My annual company shareholder meeting.
I will be conducting so much business while I’m there.
Obviously.

This poem feels unfinished.
But so am I.
And that’s okay.
So more to come.

-David Kugler