Oh box man, what are you?
You are jolly, you are sweet
You are sweat, you are meat.

Sweet tea, sweat tea
"Would you care to pet me?"

Thicker and blacker than
The river bubbling, boiling over the rocks
Whilst sitting, knees to chin
Observed by men with shirts and cameras
They cluck their tongues and
Flash, flash.

Their holiday not so holy anymore-
Polaroids. Of women, dirty, sweaty
Eyes wide with fear; others blindfolded
Tucked away between neatly pressed trousers.

But not for the box man,
He shall curl himself between two rocks
And think of fish with wings
Attacking pieces of Wonder White.