Stop and wonder why we are slaves
To the human condition.
Do we blame weather
For its power? Can we forbid the wolf
Its appetite? Man is a conglomerate. A
Lumpen mess, discarded on a lonely beach,
Turned by a careless surf.
No longer an animal, yet also not a god.
Unless he be a kind of savage god,
Believing only in himself, while in reality:
a hive mind, making monuments
From muddy puddles.
Toxic mimeographic pathetic
Misunderstood
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