all kinds of new boxes
back in the day
there was but two or three voices
taking up my cerebral space
over the years they fastidiously
multiplied without anyone’s guess
instinctively I learned to compartmentalize
them on their own terms
to the point where they just sat there
boxed in & seemingly content
to converse with just themselves
fearing I had silenced them once & for all
I thoughtlessly redisclosed the terms
soon thereafter finding myself
recreating new kinds of boxes
each one shaped uniquely
be it made of wood or metal or seashell
september two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
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