Moving the mug from knee to knee,

Scratching his foot sleepily,

Legs crossing, uncrossing gracefully:

This is the state of settled unease.

Stories told for the very fifth time,

We’ve already memorized their anticlimactic

Punchlines,

And we might not all agree, but

Do you mind?

This is the bullheadedly ignorant state of mind.

Teapot emptied, plates licked clean,

Talk continues of all that has been,

And I look for myself through the window screen:

This is the state of rebellion unseen.

What force can upset this restless equilibrium –

Must it be external,

Or can it come from within?