Imagine all those things we might begin to count, if only
all the humans were counted. Internalizing the costs of
bellies unfed, mistakes unredeemed, minds unopened,
histories untaught, context revered and protected, just as
delicate roots beneath the brilliant and beautiful daffodils.
Yes, and how democracies have hobbled themselves,
where ecologies are divided by a toxic ignoring to infinity,
a systems blindness, externalized, grown as cancer grows.
And that strangest of all places we simply call “away”
which has always been the purest form of illusion,
for our uncountable, unwanted, and thrown things.