The signal two perfectly modulated notes
The higher and the lower repeated in groups of three
First light before the sun rises
That used to cue bedtime
For one who worked at night
But now imports the contrary
That first light well before
The light shines up over the high horizon
Of houses and trees on hills
Periodically through the night the locomotives
Spoke with roar of engine clatter of track and blast of horn
A certain romance of earlier time
But now the cars on the street move out
The Hyundais the Dodges and the electrics
The quiet and those with voices tuned to annoy and to attract attention
They too made occasional appearance during the dark
But now hear the slow crescendo
How many had a good breakfast before leaving the house
How many will waste their lives and squander their health
Lining the drive-through
If you’re lucky you can spend some time outdoors
But for many that will mean working on the roof
Or rotating the octagonal stop-and-slow
Bartering like everybody else
Who isn’t splattered on the sidewalk or under the overpass
In the restaurants the offices the schools the hospitals
The retail establishments the light industrial and heavy industrial plants
The bases of operation for public safety and national defense
The gig economy hustling for the app
The ironically-labeled fulfillment center
The very home itself adapted to work online
Their precious time labor substance bodies and personalities
Their vanishingly brief lives
For money fungible universal solvent
And when the workday’s done
They get back in their cars
A few ride the bus or train
And attempt again surface street and expressway
Delayed perhaps by accident construction or stall
The glorious sunset one of the hazards
And return most of them to a roof over their head
If they’re not already there
To seek the solace of entertainment
Mediated by the culture industry
And hear perhaps before turning in
The songbird’s wistful twilight signal