The Room In The World He Lives In

And it’s a room, to be sure.
A place where he keeps himself. At least the parts
that used to work or occasionally do so.

And he pushes himself around, a little excited
every now and then, in fits about the world he has
to know. People asking him to surrender everything
just to be a man. A thing like that.

Back and forth now, kind of going around.
Staring softly at posters and old imaginations of things
he might have become if the world was the room he lived in.

_