Pop, pop, pop
The kernels push the lid aside,
Pop, pop, popping
Bursting to the top, like greedy animals, they push each other out of the way so they can be seen, heard, loved.
And I?
I am to contain them all in the too small, too tight container
like a magician, I try it all: distract with videos, sternly lecture, play pointed games that force reflection, self awareness…
And still, pop, pop, pop
They go,
Burst
Push
Seek
And I am to contain the uncontainable.
Exhausted from pushing the kernels back in, i finally stopped.
Let them spill. Let them free.
They jump, overflow, dive onto the table like soldiers in the military and I observe unflinching,
For corn must pop.
Not to be contained.
