Boxed in – no fancy ribbons
just cheap imitations
sold at the local dollar store
“for your own good” and yes
we are worried about liabilities
a danger to any who may pass you
and, of course, you yourself.
Meanwhile boxes are continuing
to slip one inside another – seamlessly
gasping for air, understanding
resolution . . .
Yes, yes, there are reasons
whether simple or profound
this brain is rattled, aching, worn . . .
but what of those wild women
who lived on the edge
defying societal norms –
smoked their cigars, wore pantaloons
conducted torrid affairs, never
afraid to break away, defying expectations
Could I be one of these?
ride a horse, a motorcycle, a jet
daring authorities to stop me
Yet, I’m a good little soldier
angry at them, at me,
for maintaining the status code
gasping to breathe –
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