Sip a glass of sherry, shut the door and turn
up the heat. Drop the blinds and pretend
that it is isolation time.

Pacing nervously through the house
seeking symbols of civilised behaviour.

Where have they been put,
those rules of conduct that
buffer us from one another?

God forbid that we react
to one another in truth and honest
conversation!

"How are you?"
"Fine, thank you, and how are you?"
So begins the social conversation.

Comfort in paranoid delusions.
Security in purring tones of
pretence and disguises.

I think I'll have a good day!
I think I will, for I have been
instructed to do so by every voice
that has chattered to me in the
last twenty four hours.

Coming home last night I somehow
misplaced the structure of civilization.

Lost.

Symbols of civilized behaviour.

Perhaps it will be necessary to sprinkle
real glass across the lawn. A new state of
mind to splatter across the grass.