I am sitting hunched and chilled
On a plastic chair in a room.
The room is only halfway filled
With people; the other half
With predatory air from the cold-vents.
I am alone on a sun-warmed rock.
Stretched out, spread-eagled,
My arms are string and my heart's a lock.
There are no legs to kick me back;
This space is mine, and mine for all intents.
I am at a table too full of food.
My ears are buzzing and red
Like bees in a raspberry mood
Or thoughts consumed by drugs.
The candles are insipid like plastic incense.
I am surrounded by wooden men.
They have dice instead of feet,
And they're more faded than they had been...
But the squares just must be jumped,
So they round the board and pay their rents.
I am alone on a rock in a desert.
I am at school, at home and at work,
Talking, driving, dancing-- and comfort,
And comfort is mine as long as I stay
Exposed on the rock and you in your tents.