En-crip-ing Time

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Not a short-term one-bed with exhausting prices that never rest, just waits recurse from the next to the next
The background of infrastructures urges to move into our perspective
Their fragility felt
Why aren't you able to conform, or stand in-line
To pre-packaged a ready meal to generalize care on the go
To the avocado that came from the other side of the planet ‘perfectly ripe just for u’
If this Machine is so clearly bleeding out
How dare you call us broken, useless, incompatible to Greatness
Of frictionless desire
The truth is that chrono-capitalism is incompatible with crip life
Conforming life from everything and everyone
And turning it into pain stoked values
Between profit and their hollow shell of care
Capital is a time-parasite
Between endless growth and the cracks we survive in
They were embedded with the concept of ease
Bodies so perfect that shitting and fucking are mere performances
Between the rush and the endless hunger
Histories like wounds are stitched in time
Like trails and paths over bodies
But between the price hikes and the quiet despair
I was a body
A body
What we call survival is actually a moment when
Temporal inequalities
Because life affirmation costs too much
Can we imagine futures of superfluous care, with a excesses of crips
As if we give up being rested, just to be consumed
As if liberation could ever arrive from infinite growth
Autonomy
and the narcissistic logics of neoliberalism
When there’s nothing left but slow afternoons to live in
The pace of life splintered like glass
There’s beauty in this cadence
Inaction
Over a crip horizon