Why would I think to move 

or even leave 

it’s warm in here I’ve got 

so much more to read 

 

I’ve tried outside 

it doesn’t bring 

the view 

I get from this seat 

 

people are quiet here

and my only fear 

is someone taking 

what I need 

 

when I’m hungry 

I look up a recipe 

when I’m lonely 

I take a biography 

 

I feel happy 

with photography 

and philosophy brings 

me relief 

 

at night my mind grows a garden 

and I wake up with the knowledge 

while my ignorance 

is still talking in its sleep

 

I dress with anticipation

that I’ll once again 

feel that sensation 

between warm sheets of paper and ink