Most of the time
you'll wake up in the morning
drained and literally not
having dreamed
about anything,
every last trace of that once-
liquid-leaden uncreated
conscience of your
race having been siphoned,
cooled, and compacted to sustain
and buttress the the inexhaustible structure
of something preexisting.
You'll actually eulogize catching colds
and having those good old hunger
pangs all the time, bereft now
of any terror you could name
that hasn't yet been played
out in simulation, over and over
again. Yes, and I'm guessing
you'll still have never read
The Divine Comedy—but,
at any given time, you're likely
to have seen all three Jurassic
Parks on TNT fairly recently.