The poem
Don't box down to the little box Which supposedly contains everything Your star and all other stars
Empty yourself In her emptiness
Take two nails out of her And give them to the owners To eat
Make a hold in her middle And stick on your clapper
Fill her with blueprints And the skin of her craftsmen And trample on her with both feet
Tie her to a cat's tail And chase the cat
Don't bow down to the little box If you do You'll never straighten yourself out again