An artificial sky, Like motorcyclists wear, Gleaming on the ridden landscape. Why not? What have we known, counted, stacked, traded-in more valuable? What parts of us As it passed Didn't shake, Begging to split And go back And carry on?
Finding: No Equal Agency Among Persons
Not even to affect change upon their own immediate environments.
There are no slippery slopes, but some are steppy.
You can see the steps, and they're going ...