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Saturday, July 3, 2010

MAN IN THE BOX








Rush hour finds me back on the road to nowhere--
one of the multitude of morose or comatose
wage slaves blending into the traffic flow,
merging with the stream of semi-consciousness,
farting and belching along,
darting and weaving,
to gain some positional advantage in the race to the BIG HOUSE
where I pay homage to da MASSA,
a man whose fondest sentimental memories
are of raining bombs upon the Italians--
a place where, like a chess player who's maneuvered himself into a corner,
they will keep me in check until quittin' time.

He appears at the stoplight
like a notice for a bill I forgot to pay.
Derelict with a sign that says give me money.
I don't, though I can't think of a good reason
not to--isn't he putting in a day's work,
standing in the sun, trying his level best
to hold that placard straight,
same as the guy on the road construction crew
who pulls his thumb out of his ass
just long enough to shove a sign
in your face that says SLOW DOWN?

A man in a cardboard box
needs only to flip his lid
while I, who gave up reaching for them
ages ago, try to comprehend the difference
between his heaven and mine,
knowing that truth is like the sun--
not everyone sees the light at the same time.

And though I pretend not to notice him,
what I really want to do is roll my window down
and say, "HEY, let's you and me--let's hit the turnpike together...
RUN while there's still time--
head north in the summer and south in th-
but by then the light has changed...
and I'm back on my road to nowhere.

I guess it's just as well...
I couldn't live in the shadow of his pain,
nor ever think of a reason to be that free.

12 comments:

  1. I love how the stop sign means so much more than stop.

    This poem has a brilliant kind of forward-lean to it, as if it would just leisurely roll from your tongue if spoken. Is it written to be read?

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  2. M,
    Thanks for the feedback. Now that I look at it, you may be right! Perhaps subconsciously I wrote it to be read in public, which I have done a few times with this one. How intriguing it is that others can see things in our work that we don't necessarily notice ourselves!

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  3. 'not everyone sees the light at the same time.'
    same pain, different times...I love this!

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  4. You caught me and I've caught you writing brilliant prose again! HA! LOL :))
    Happy 4th of July, Tim :)

    I especially love this part: "A man in a cardboard box
    needs only to flip his lid
    to observe the stars,
    while I, who gave up reaching for them
    ages ago, try to comprehend the difference
    between his heaven and mine,
    knowing that truth is like the sun--
    not everyone sees the light at the same time."

    Sometimes when we have lost all, we see more clearly, don't we. The juxtaposition of the average Joe in the mass of "rush hour traffic on the road to nowhere" and the "Man in the Box" is truly brilliant!

    Tim, you really must put your words into a book. I believe it will be a Bestseller...truly and honestly, I believe it.
    Happy 4th ***
    Just leaving you a few shining stars to reach for :)
    Hugs and Kisses,
    Kelly

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  5. LORRAINE,
    Thanks my dear--somehow a poem on the nature of freedom seemed appropriate to put up for the 4th of July.

    KELLY,
    If I do put my stuff into a book, I will come to you to write a testimonial on the back cover for me! LOL

    In a certain sense, all roads lead to nowhere...

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  6. Tim, I like this very much. To me it seems pertinent to our tough economic times. I like the juxtaposition of the two men, especially the one in a box on wheels, on his way to another box at work, and perhaps yearning for the freedom of the other while at the same time fearful that it could be him but for the luck of the draw?

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  7. LINDA,
    WOW...what an insightful comment...love your metaphor of the box on wheels! (Who says you don't GET my poetry?)

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  8. thanks for linking up to oneshot....i enjoyed this contemplation greatly...i have quite the heart for the man in the box as i always figured i was one decision away from being him...and that freedom he has to flip that lid comes at a price, he has no job to pay...nicely done timeteo...

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  9. BRIAN,
    Thanks so much for stopping by! (Yes, if there is one great truth, it's that everything in this world is a trade-off...)

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  10. This is so good. "Rush hour finds me back on the road to nowhere--one of the multitude of morose or comatose..."

    I have been among them, as has just about everyone I know. The urge to chuck it all and bolt is not an unfamiliar one. But never with the man in the box. Guiltily, I admit to being one of those who look away.

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  11. PATTIKEN,
    Comment much appreciated--thanks for stopping by!

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