Dave Bonta's "Civics" is a short, sharp poem about how we treat one another in public life. The first line turns the word "other" into a verb: people "other others," meaning they push someone else out, label them as outsiders. The speaker asks us to "see" this happening, almost like pointing at it.
The second line makes the news itself the aggressor. Headlines "gun for our kindness," and the noun "guns" becomes a verb too, so the media seems to hunt down our better instincts. The tone is wary and a little bitter.
The closing image is stranger. People act "as if they would buy time / by the help of a watchmaker." It suggests a futile hope that cleverness or expertise could purchase more time, when time can't be bought. Judging by the title, the poem may be questioning what we owe each other as citizens, and whether we're wasting what we have. The mood is uneasy, compressed, and quietly accusing.