Little Box Opens Up

Little Box talks back

With a new set of teeth

And pink gums

A fake nose and a wax mustache

She disguises her voice

To sound like Groucho

 

Little Box opens up

And cries to her psychiatrist

I don’t know why they hate me

 

Little Box is not happy to see you

So she closes herself up for months

Years, decades, and two millennia!

She tacks up a sign that says

Nirvana

 

Little Box is undead

She sleeps all day in a coffin

Hands over chest

At night she cruises the mall

For juicy victims

She prefers type A

But AB if she has to

What can you say

Vampires can’t be choosy

She likes your stupid brother

 

Little Box is on the psychiatry couch

Everybody hates me

Little Box lies on her side

And spills her guts

 

What’s in Little Box

A perfect orchid

A chocolate-covered strawberry

A new iPhone

With a glittery sleeve

Amber earrings from Pushkin

Keys to a new Porsche

A retro Chanel brooch

A Getty scion’s left ear

A Czar’s penis

Gifts so rare

Please don’t stare

 

What’s in Little Box

Rancid chow mein

A sliver of cold pizza

Last week’s hummus

You’re a starving orphan

From East Brooklyn

And you’ll eat it

 

So you want to fuck Little Box

You want to know her secret

She won’t open up

She won’t give it up

And you are genuinely repelled

By her filthy ribbon

 

You want to DO the Little Box

You are a sorry story

You big creep

Why don’t you get off the couch and find

A real girlfriend!

 

Boss Box

White, square, and without a soul!

 

Please don’t analyze Little Box

She’s just cardboard clogging the landfill

Her mother Precious Jade Purse

Has been regifted