In The Box Poem by Gary Dobbs Morgan

He remains in the box
clicking away on his keyboard
doing all the work for which he
has no time to delegate it to others.

Calling people in and slapping them
when they can not justify random events,
castigating for no purpose other than to
keep his mind in order and reorder

Reordering keeps the mind at ease
the cause is justifying everything
that comes into the box.
Everything must be touched, sampled,
stapled, selected, ordered, reordered
manuevered, reviewed and finalized

Control is keeping everyone waiting on
his final word.
Can you imagine what rigid parameters
keep people and ideas at bay,
what guardhouse regulators exist in his mind,
what experience got him to where he is today.

The rubber band rips when stretched,
the mind can only control its owner,
not the rest of us.
But while he is here, his misery oozes out of the box
like lava finding its depth
striking all who answer, answer back, respond and do
not follow the rules which are unstated, not codified
and made up on the spot.
Rest in pieces when the big bang occurs.