Grief, a dislike of that

Grief, a dislike of that

Who does not mourn, grieve,
die inside, does not pace back and forward
in a box that was made
a container, like the one making cows feel safer,
to express better, like a room, a box for a cat, poem,
The News, a ball-bearing, or cake box, the walls falling
when a ribbon is untied, or when dislike for simile holds fast
no more, a dislike of that,
and that, and in a last salute to metaphor
when things are simply as they are, does not sigh,
does not wail?