A Falcon lives high, dives deep,
their daily life monitored
watched on camcorders:
eggs laid and hatched, we observe
them, they eat, feed, grow, fly—
elemental these routine animal
activities—the daily mess of life.
All our Activities of Daily Living
the doctors and nurses ask their questions
record our answers, the social worker,
the social security clerk with boxes to fill,
the aging need care, the Falcon lives unassisted.
We watch each other—
think we know what is real.
A baby monitor to see and hear a child
asleep upstairs, under surveillance for safety,
what is necessary, helpful, ethical, desirable
for the bird, for the child, for the elder?
Some turned tyrannical with reality TV—
it came to us during the writer’s strike—
a bump into tyranny that already existed.
All I want is privacy, a door with a lock—
a key, a room of my own, a place to hide.