Crosswords

Ironically, figuring out where i am
is a bit like scratching the bottom island
jutting out of my chin,
hoping to unearth the cables
that tie it to the ground. Maybe 
they will have been labelled
with bar codes, numbers,
the names of proprietors,
addresses to corners in unvisited rooms
since Communism. Maybe it falls down to smoke
listening over land, unnatural to my nostrils
but grazed on thirstily anyway. The reason i pick
up the pages is that the sense of deciphration
tickles.