You See I Can't Live In A Boarding House

You see I can't live
in a boarding house
Share my bed
with a cockroach
or mouse
I guess I think
I'm better than most
With beluga caviar
on my toast.

The sun is out
I'd rather be outside
But can't be scared
Don't want to hide
Neither want to read
that I have died
(the leer of poetic licence here I fear)
Though I think that I exist
Think and feel I think I exist
From my use of mind on keyboard
Finger touch hinged from wrist.

Sometimes I see the world
In a kind of magic realism
Some kind of cosmic prism
Where happenings seem to have
no inherent reason
I suppose I'm blessed
Universal optimist
Earthly pessimist.