—
.
.
Man Box
When you’re in the box
it’s not enough to push
against the walls, punch
up through the ceiling.
You’re in the land of man-
sized tissues, where two
sets of the same ear plugs
are called “Pretty in Pink”
for women, “Skull Screw”
for men, where we light
“Man Candles”—the scent
of first downs and bacon,
riding mowers and tools.
Under the lid, us, is the result
of what sits on top of it—
a military industrial complex
that builds and feeds on
a scared population, media
that misinforms and stirs
the fear, Big Pharma ads
between the misinformation
telling us we’re weak, ugly,
limp, another commercial
of a muscled hero movie,
an education system reliant
on aggression and the long
term debt of its learners—
a culture of violence where
we play violence, pay for
violence, feel forced by our
fear to fear resisting violence.
So we “man up,” hold it all in,
climb the ranks, compete
for more, take the brunt,
grunt, hide in the box where
we at least know the rules
and the roles, and rationalize
living in the cave of it because
our fathers and grandfathers
did the same. So reinforce little
girls as cute, little boys as tough.
Carry weapons, think gay = less
manly, buy another shiny thing
for a woman until it’s worn out
and then work more to buy
another, bigger, shiny thing until
our lives are nearing the end:
fuck bedpans and hospitals,
fuck the people who we feel
treated us wrong, everybody
can fuck off except our own—
because we didn’t feel their
weight on the box, we weren’t
able to stop playing the game
long enough to see ourselves
as puppets in a far larger game.
But, yes, he was a good man
people will say as they stand
over us, as they think about
us, as they hang our photos
in their homes, as they tell
great stories of us good men,
good men who paid to play
a game and thought we had
a choice in the matter, good
men who will be remembered
for staying between the lines,
who felt flawed when they went
beyond them, good men who
could say don’t fuck with me
at just the right time, but meant
don’t fuck with me because
I’m already being fucked with
in ways I’m unable to break.
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Click here to purchase the Conaway’s Man Box – Poems, now available on Amazon.
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This post was originally published on the book publisher’s site, ConnectionVictory.com and is republished here with permission.