Sunday, May 11, 2025

Each Other Moment by Jessica Greenbaum

Each Other Moment 

by Jessica Greenbaum


We turned location back on.

We were resetting our passwords.

We were scanning the QR code

to order an iced matcha latte.

We were on hold; we were saying

representative into the phone.

We were showing our Excelsior Pass

and putting in our contact information

for timed tickets to the gardens.

We were signing up for a streaming

service and decrying our Zoom

appearance. We were skimming

not reading. We were trawling

and scrolling. We were calculating

the millennia before reefs could

revive and species come back

in colors we haven’t imagined.

We were guilty, and each other

moment, also innocent. We were

meditating so the unforgiving

might give a little. We were trying

to find the contact information

for the company. We were

wondering where to recycle

foam rubber. We were listening

to a podcast and downloading

a playlist. We cross-indexed our

top issues in Charity Navigator.

We were making suggested

go bags and stay bins for the likely

floods and fires. We were

wondering why men only

gave us one star. We looked to

the sky for how to help any

anything at all. We hit retweet

on the full moon and we liked

the Big Dipper. Constellations

etch-a-sketched the night, then the

window shade’s round pull

rose into a sun and light came on.

We agreed with the ancients;

that was hopeful. We turned location

back off. We were innocent but

each other moment we were lost.


Jessica Greenbaum is the author of three poetry collections: Inventing Difficulty (Silverfish Review Press, 1998), The Two Yvonnes (Princeton University Press, 2012), and Spilled and Gone (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2019). Her poems have appeared in The New Yorker, Poetry, The Yale Review, Plume, and The Paris Review. 

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