Bobbling on my couch in quiet ecstasy,
reading my books,
not finishing my books,
shifting from this book to the next,
never wanting to do what is required,
staring at the ceiling,
imagining a variety of universes.

All of you do right things naturally.
When I finally go off to be human,
when I do the right thing,
I want praise and trophies.
I want loud applause and big hugs.
Enough reinforcement,
I will scrub the bathroom again and again.
I long to be right naturally
instead of desperate for praise and plaques,
not received but desired,
instead of a lover of books.