Apologies to Pete Seeger

A Poem by Chris Haws

Your clothes don’t go to the launderette
There’s so many people you haven’t met
Because of your little boxes.
Little box goes round and round,
You can’t sleep without the sound.

Little boxes know your place,
Your gender, height, your age, your race.
Little boxes from Amazon
A little box with your face on (!)
Little box comes from the shops
Big boxes land upon the docks

Little boxes get bigger and bigger
Netflix and chill so you don’t have to figure out
What your life is really about
Films or sport?
Little boxers round after round

School has boxes of every kind
To grow or warp, control the mind?
Little box goes round and round
Picks up kids and takes them home
Little boxes filled with sound
Sounds of other people are drowned

You live your life on a mobile phone
Little box don’t leave you alone
Send a tweet or make TikToks
All your thoughts in a little box

Make a difference, make a cross
In your favourite little box
Pandora’s box was left with hope
Our box is full of the names of dopes

Then you get a box of your own
Fill it with boxes and call it a home
Maybe you’ve got one on your front door
Your mantelpiece or living room floor
Do what they say and you’ll get some more

Little boxes, little boxes, little boxes all around
All your life in little boxes
Then your box goes in the ground.