Monday, January 17, 2011

Making Boxes

Making Boxes

The cardboard boxes in the basement
speak through crossed-out, markered nouns.

In black, all caps: LINEN CLOSET.
A blue X runs through it. The correction,

also in blue, reads FRAGILE! GLASS!
I make them boxes again, push their sides

in to make them stand. They collapse
and rise with little work. The cardboard bends,

lets us label it and pretend that rooms
themselves can be boxed up, brought with us.

Here is my kitchen, held in my arms,
and there is my old bedroom, and the office.

The cubes are disembodied spaces,
rooms piled up without a stairwell or hall.

We will the contents of our houses
not to break. Every box is so very fragile.

11 comments

  1. A wonderful poem, Hannah. Great metaphor!

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  2. Having just moved and being a person who loves order, I can't help but love this delightful little poem.

    It was an unexpected treat to find you this morning through my friend Maureen.

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  3. I move so much. This one hits home hard.

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  4. Makes me think of the time I helped someone move...it's always a strange feeling to see one's possessions all confined to a stack of boxes.

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  5. You have such a fressh eye, Hannah. I have a stack of flattened U-haul boxes in my garage, have looked at them a thousand times, and never saw anything but U-Haul boxes.

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  6. You unpack fast! I hope home is starting to feel like home.xo

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  7. I enjoyed this, especially since I have favorite boxes for moving. They protect my glass that never gets unpacked anymore. I think we might be a bit too nomadic.

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  8. "Lets us label it and pretend that rooms
    themselves can be boxed up, brought with us.

    Here is my kitchen, held in my arms,
    and there is my old bedroom, and the office."

    I like the idea of holding an entire room/experience/event in ones arms. I moved 6 times in 4 years once, it was a little nutty, this reminds me of that time, boxed and waiting, willing things to hold together.

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  9. i like the metaphor too!

    thea.
    xx

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  10. "The cubes are disembodied spaces,
    rooms piled up without a stairwell or hall."

    This goes so well with the image.

    Lovely poem!

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  11. this is totally my life right now.
    liminal space.

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