Issue 02
Another Zoom Meeting Rebecca Kilroy They put “meet” in quotation marks. Do you remember when that was funny? No, me neither. “See you there! Well, not see you. ‘Meet’ you there.” In those endless, grid-locked city blocks, storage rooms of thought, Where boxes and voices stack atop each other, And someone is always unmuted who shouldn’t be, but no one is ever muted who should. “Meetings”. If I were angrier, I would say, How dare you defile the ancient simplicity, the laid-bare bedrock of all human interaction, that is a meeting? To meet used to mean a possibility, a coming together. We met everywhere and with everyone! Lovers and strangers and friends, Formal and informal and “unplanned”. Like the way I used to meet my high school crush in the hallways “unplanned” as if I hadn’t memorized his schedule. Is there anything more ancient or true than the convoluted means by which an adolescent girl will contrive to meet her crush? How dare you then call these new glass boxes “meetings”? 90
