The Box for You By Robert Conlon

The box; boxes. Not squares. Although, the sides are made of squares. Hairy? Not these boxes. They don’t come with a colloquial term or material stuck between the bum cracks. These are boxes. Level with precession; straight lined modernism without the concrete. Boxes to put things in. Boxes to put you in.

You were born in a box. You will die in a box or even die in one that burns real bright. The box defines who you are. The box is God!

So you want a box. And I have a box for you. Not a pick a box. I’m the one that chooses, chooses the box for you. A metaphoric box; the perfect box for you. It has six sides. It has a lid that rises with the perfect view. A view of other boxes exactly like the one for you.

There in the distance, upon a hill, is what you in your box will aspire too. Up above and just beyond the box factory are other boxes; bigger boxes with individual painted on the front of each door, which makes them completely different from yours.

So if you’re good and act very nice. Maintain your box by keeping it clean and tidy; make certain it stays upright. One day you might get to live on the hill. Live in the bigger box with individual painted on the side: Isn’t that nice. Until then enjoy your box. The box I choose for you.

© 2014 Robert Conlon

Robert Conlon is a writer and a poet/spoken word performer. He’s been writing for over twenty years and lives in St. Albans, a Suburb of Melbourne, Australia where he’s co-convener of a poetry reading: West Word Poetry at the Dancing Dog Cafe in Footscray. He has two channels on YouTube, Robert James Conlon and Robert Conlon with over a thousand videos of his poetry, spoken word, short prose, idiocies, and rants. He’s also had stuff published here and there.

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