Again postponing morning’s stale routine
To reach the end of the chapters last line
I’ve quietly fallen into pages rapt.
Removing myself from this fictional scene
A task that feels impossible this time
In this real-feeling, fake story I’m wrapped.
The day is getting brighter here I lay
Departure time has come and gone, I stay
Ignoring alarms, foregoing caffeine
Avoiding clock faces, lunch is unmade.
This time is luxurious and obscene
My arrival at work will be delayed
Avoiding the academic machine
Entrenched deeply in fiction unafraid.
(An Alfred Dorn Sonnet)