Sandbox

the sandbox
like a litter box
that his mother's 
and the neighborhood's cats
liked scratching and pissing and shitting in
the boy 
playing with his tonka trucks
and his tiny sand shovel
and pail
unaware
of the parasite
toxoplasma gondii
causing multiple maladies 
like cysts in the brain
and controversially linked 
to rage
schizophrenia
and suicide

this boy
in his oshkosh striped bibs
wallowing in the sand
with his teddy bear billy
propped in the corner
this poor boy
called to dinner
without changing
just scrubbing his hands
then sleeping all night
every night
cuddling
the soiled 
billy the bear 

in his sandbox
the boy
fevered
headached
and fatigued
his sandy pit
reeking of ammonia
like the corners in his home
where the cats piss and shit
to rot the subfloors
beneath the carpet

in his sandbox
this boy
surrounded by things
on the outside
too trivial
compared to the vastness
and potentiality of existence
the boy 
with his trucks
and tools
and teddy bear
and turds
surrounded by things
today
things outside his box
still too trivial
for his playpen
of shit and pissy
sand

his sandbox now
the place of gods
phenomenology
the infinite 
and eternal
while a dog
sniffs another one's ass
and the iceman cometh
somewhere else
somewhere out there
far away
from his cries
and the cat turds
instead of little green army men
that adorn
his sandbox
even now

our entertainments
to this boy
now a man
our distractions
nothing
meaningless
pointless
diversions
even in conceding
as we might
they're nothing as splendid
or glorious
today
as christmas presents
once were
nothing as magnificent today
as those gifts from santa
or
as marvelous
as creepshow
in the theater
in 1982
was
things no longer 
as splendid or spectacular now 
as worshiping at the feet
of motörhead
while smashed against the stage
like red worms on pavement
was
things no longer
as dazzling or transcendent
as flair versus dusty
for the world title
in a steel cage
live and from ringside
and before the bubble 
of kayfabe
burst

all those things
replaced by things now 
less attractive
the edges
of our entertainments
and distractions
and anticipations
duller now
but still
useful
more like medicine
today
against the disease
from all the cat shit
in our sandboxes

our dumb and dull pleasures
that don't always leave us with much
but usually more
at least
than just praise for gods
prayers for salvation
and praise
for the mother
letting her cats
shit and piss 
throughout a diseased home
and 
in her tender child's 
sandbox
where she so carelessly
allowed him 
to play