A close-up shot of a condor. In the background, there is wood and some blurry leaves.

Condor Nest Livestream #923

Eleonor Botoman

Slow rise of jawneckbellytalon shudders into the bald slant of pixelated sun. Fluffed leviathan exits nest rendered in 720p. It lives in a tab tucked between express-shipped checkout and snags of California precipice blanched tooth-white by the sun’s eternity. Fledgling peeks over the crumbled claw of its first world with that child’s fearless instinct clinging to the fragile down of its body. Mother, in her finest widow-black, teaches through unspooled organs and puddled meat. There is no warning. Wing-tendons are thrown open like curtains, splinters the lens with a crack of floodlight. Camera drops clean to the cave floor. We are not witnesses to that first dive into bright air with gummed limbs, pink neck. Hyperlink slices the screen black.

In the reflected void, another animal blinks back.

Eleonor Botoman (she/they) is a writer and museum worker living in Brooklyn. They are currently a graduate student in NYU's Experimental Humanities and Museum Studies program where she’s studying the impacts of climate change on cultural institutions. Eleonor's poetry and cultural criticism can be found in the Long Now Foundation, Artforum, C Magazine, The Mantle, and The Sunlight Press among others, and she publishes her newsletter “Screenshot Reliquary” each month.