36s to cameron (it’s about boxes i think)

there is nothing
for miles
latched a mental tether
to the black car
in front of me
as i stare out
at cows and goats
and the occasional
patch of scrubs

i can tell
by the shape of
the pinions
from a mile away
if it is a crow
or a hawk circling
but i couldn’t say
exactly where i am
at this moment
headed to cameron
following the blue
arrows on the screen
mindlessly driving
through unnamed towns
in the middle
of fucking nowhere

life just seems to be
a series of boxes
we wake in one
shower in another
move to a mobile box
to head to
a congregation of
people in a larger box
build boxes for pets
boxes for birds
zoos to box wildlife
aquariums to box fish
subdivisions to box families
prisons to box criminals
on and on
box after box
hermit crabs in
human skulls
skittering from
box to box
until we die
and our remains are put
into a final box
and eventually
we are forgotten

i know i am not
even though
i have long since
given up hope
of knowing
where i am
driving driving driving
the same small towns
box to box
watching hawks circle
trying not
to cry


3 thoughts on “36s to cameron (it’s about boxes i think)

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