Hard Edges

I felt the sharpness of anger
a moment ago
the hard edges of capitalism are
the corners of a box I keep
bloodying myself against
trying to get
to get
somewhere else
to get
away from working to live
with little time for the latter

to get

it could be worse
I am one of the lucky ones

only newly colliding
with this clear glass
that’s clearly been here all along

restless, now
my hands claw at these walls
insane with the realization that
I’m surrounded by boxes

in each is a world
designed to divide
we eat
we drink
we watch T.V.
we jerk off to cartoon-like porn

caricatures of the nimble things we once were
we feed our addictions and
grow soft
and compliant
already my anger has faded into
the air that fills the container
between these hard edges of capitalism