POEM: for the woman on the bus, who doesn’t like poetry

for the woman on the bus, who doesn’t like poetry
(for NM)

whatever happens
from this point on
remember
they can’t make you
if you don’t let them
but more than that
“they” are rarely the problem
we build our own boxes
wedge ourselves into them
eventually forgetting
the color of the sky
warm sand on bare skin
the sound of the surf

stop

before you close the box completely
step into the fresh air
be childlike
surprise yourself
the world doesn’t need more machines
but it desperately needs YOU

7 March 2013
in the Atlanta airport