the purple box a box is sitting in a corner adjacent a faux statue of Lincoln when he vacillated and thought of men. the statue is bronze, with flittering gems of turquoise. it holds its spatial remedy like candy. it'll captivate a youth for a moment but the father will give him video screen instead. this box is splendid because its contents has not yet been unveiled. it remains a conundrum. Pandora in a sense. but not so euphoric. let's make it simple. this box has a rhythm. one day a man, average height, sullen visage, part of it all, noticed the box just sitting there existing. and casting subtle, swayable shadows. well the box is purple, with a jagged edge. it is not comprised of wood, oak, metal, steel nor aluminum. it is also not made of cardboard. it is made of fig. yes, an organic substance. perishable. almost fluid, malleable. and it is purple with green overtones. it glows and resonates. and from a distance of say 21-feet it hums in the key of G-minor-7 a piece from some unknown composer and then vacillates with a Chopin nocturne. (when, of course, it is of indifferent comportment. lacking in a sense of certitude it can afford such a luxury. also, its origins cannot be traced). the man approached the box. he had with him a tool box and various dissecting, scrutinizing devices. he commenced to disarm the box of its radiance. he and the others nearby complained of the obtrusive, incongruous aspect of the box. it did not fit, they complained. it looked out of place. a misfit, certainly. it had no meaning, was not dressed appropriately and was, ultimately, not accountable. but it radiated celestial and pure. this, they put under their hat and resumed the tasks, responsibilities and humdrum before them. they thought of that one love, momentarily then got back to business. "get that goddamned thing out of here", another man shouted. and so, the man dismantled the purple box. edge by edge corner dissolving corner. it oozed and folded over itself. "there is nothing left of it now." they said. no more trouble. folks can go on and be alright. the disruptive force has been eradicated. inundated. flow. resume-- now, they can gaze unobtrusively at the founding father. and revel in his austerity and majestic righteousness. good night. -michael j tino sometime in 2005 back