Tuesday, February 11, 2014


Squawking and squirming and stretching we're born
and then we're bundled and boxed and branded,
our futures foretold by the labels worn
on the boxes into which we've landed.

Our learning begins with boxes that spew
endless streams of cheap chaotic chatter,
then we go to school to learn what to do
filling boxes so that our answers matter.

We ride in boxes between bigger boxes
where we live and we love and we labor.
And in these boxes walls of smaller boxes
keep us alone, divided from our neighbor.

When we reach that day we all move toward
since our mothers began maternity
we get our payoff, our final reward,
to be locked in a box for eternity.

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