Poem: In 5G

In 5G

by Tawanda Jazz

My house is small.

I walk between machines—

from one

to the next

and this interlude between

two-dimensional states of being

this in-between world

is a moment of freedom.

But then I question the idea

of machine-freedom—

the momentary loosening of cuffs,

this illusion.

My house is humble

and filled

with unseen frequencies

that rule my world.

Sometimes I break out

and see the green of grass

clover field

grapevine heavy with the fruits of summer,

endless violet sunsets.

This is an anchor I drop

in between the spaces

where I merely exist.