When I lie down

When I lie down

To rest my bones

Hoping to fall asleep

I struggle to remain

Supine

Without fearing death

The unknowable

My insufficiency.

Come to think of it

I am confused about

Most things

Why call speed bumps

Sleeping policemen

We all have a right

To make a joke

I guess

But driving over

A knackered rozzer

Is a bit extreme.

When I wake up

I know my dreaming

Was surreal

Until I sit up

And everything

Rings true

I am barely lucid

Before it all comes

Round again.

When I sit quietly

On my own in a cafe

I am terrified

Somebody will sit

Close by

Worse still

Ask to share the table.

Is it just me

Am I anti-social

Am I too self-conscious

To be good company

Does that make me sensitive

Or defensive

Pretentious

Or socially awkward.

Either way,

When I prefer to be

Undisturbed

I feel isolated

And withdrawn

An admission

I would rather not share.

I always leave quietly

Without making a fuss

Or drawing attention

To my coming or going.

When I lie down

To sleep

I worry that I might snore

How would I know?

I guess that just makes

Me English

After all.