I'm glad I made the box before the box made me

When I was sloppy lost in a hollow echo dry,
and loping, laughing wolves heard me howl, I

saw another wolf chomp on a dry yellow volume,
dripping scarlet teeth onto a marble spine chewed.

I watched in steely coolness a stone hard chisel
cascading sawdust from a cornered rabbet too,

chewing acid volumes sprayed in breathless sparks
over me, grainy chatoyant with a sly, sheepish grin.