PROBLEMS OF THE BIPED

I slept on a couch
And in the morning woke in a panic
And promised to sleep in my own bed that night
And to go into a hermit state
For 10 years
For strength

But by nightfall
I am lonely again, restless
So I come back to the couch
To be with people
Because I am less sick with them than I am with myself

“I’ll just sleep here”, I cry.
With a hint of shame.
“Do you have a blanket?”

I must be an addict
And I believe I am developing a back problem

They say man began walking on his hind legs too soon
Forcing us to shuffle unnatural
Sleepers on couches
Whose place is this?

I need to be crushed on all sides
To satisfy my claustrophobia
Family