A Boy in a Chair

 Neon orange peeks out from behind the black of pads, cushions, and rods,

A boy sits on this chair,

about a fox's height off of the ground.

His head has some sort of open helmet around the back with one strap across his forehead.

His shirt is slightly bunched at his side, by some bar.

His hair sticks up,

His arms move in a very dijointed way--

one is more of a flap, and one almost motions me to come.

Neither movement is smooth.

I can see his knees bend,

leading to his feet strapped in.

Every so often he almost jumps in his chair,

His butt lifts off his seat for a split second and he smiles like he's just seen his best friend.

His mouth goes from a smile to a packer to what looks like a grimace,

but I think he's happy the whole time.

He's humming and shrieking happily.

If I was moving the way he is I'd get laughed at,

so I don't feel like I know how to take his movements.

But he doesn't seem to care how I take them so long as I smile back at him.