Sad little poem that ends,
the novelist is running out of friends
uniquely pleasing—conversations are distant or short.
When did modernity become a medieval fort?
There is little we have, or dare,
occupied in our social matrix of tedious workplace care,
it is becoming truly strange but true:
my domestic animals have more personality than you.
Zeus is a beautiful, lazy prince,
Joey, who would be outdoors, climbs the walls.
Society makes no demands on them—they are who they are.
Unlike you. Sad, unemployed, trying to fix your car.