Isolation

The first thing I learned of my morning routine

By the dock of the bay at the edge of town

Was how to boil the coffee and make my breakfast plate

And wait, and eventually sit down

Been out here for a mere 23 days, and already I don't know if I could ever come back

From my inside world sufficiently

To explain any of this to anyone

Some mornings, I'd wake up

With a light beam in my pocket

But it was all in my imagination

As I would look to the dream for the electricity bolts

That were running through my blood, being tamed

But I couldn't find them

Someone dodged a deck of cards

That I threw across the room

Hoping to snatch away

My own ideas back from

The complacent wizard

And the butler, while they played

Their curious games

Critical eyeing and taking names

The way they fling those things around

I wonder where they're going to come down

And what will be the result

Don't shoot the messenger

Don't shoot the messenger

Whoever they are

See them driving in your car

Cutting you off

I guess they've got somewhere to go

Anyway, don't you know

Surely you've got to be

Better off

Not flipping anybody off?

The third thing I learned on that first day of my isolation

Was how to get crushed under a gigantic metaphysical rock

And how to get splayed across the dirt in a helpless way

Man, I'm lucky I overcame that one that day

Or really, I should say

It's more like two or three hours later, it just floated away