The speaker turns an accusation around. When workers ask for things like unions and living wages, they're told they want the impossible. The poem answers by listing the impossible things workers already do just to get by: sleeping in basements, on couches, in shelters or on the street so they can take jobs that pay less than rent; stitching together second and third jobs when hours are cut week to week; chasing down a benefits office to get food stamps restored after a lost form; sharing mattresses on the floor when the oil runs out.
The repeated phrase "to make it possible" gives the poem a steady, almost weary rhythm, and the "we" makes it feel like a shared voice. The mood is tired but firm, with anger held in check by plain, practical language. The ending lands the point quietly: from where these workers stand, the demands that sound unrealistic to others look entirely realistic.