I've got a chair attached to my ass for 13 hours every day. Add two more after and before just getting there and away. Like thrown meat landing on a seat - just vegetating in decay. I'm squattified - too settled in and melting into pear-shaped dismay. Shapes and textures etched into my back on few occasions whence I stand. Impressions of a cushion pressed into a lazy man. The furniture acts like a cookie-cutter - reforming me like wooden hands on flattened dough. Till I tear the glue of hair and sweat and go. The vinyl interlocked with dimples grips my body. Till I'm just a finished pile of human relic on a legged place-mat. I fall between the tensing cracks - I feel trapped on the tracks. I don't need feet - I'm levitated by the seat - yeah I've got chair ass. Yeah no something gone wrong. Here gone too late I'm done. My blood pools in my thighs. I bloat and swell cold till I rise. Numb I stand arms in clammy palms rubber bones give at the knee. Ankles thick but empty couldn't hold the gelatin mold. Watch the cardhouse man fold. Yeah no something gone wrong. Here gone too late I'm done. Yeah no gone too late I'm done. Yeah no gone too late I'm done