The Tenants Of The Little Box
Throw into the little box A stone You’ll take out a bird Throw in your shadow You’ll take out the shirt of happiness Throw in your father’s root You’ll take out the axle of
The Judges Of The Little Box
to Karl Max Ostojic Why do you stare at the little box That in her emptiness Holds the whole world If the little box holds The world in her emptiness Then the antiworld Holds