of carrying out the legislation
of his own delight did he discover
that the greatest pleasure in creation
is solitude and isolation. O, to put
down the phone, he thought.
O, to be left alone
to be a recluse. And now,
having been made in his image,
so it must go with all of us.
For is not the point of our lives
a sharp end
when our loneliness no longer
makes us feel small—and, turns out,
never did at all?
All along, in fact, it brought us
closer to omnipotence.
Like the sunflower
teaching the galaxy how to swirl, it
made us feel simply enormous
with excuses.
