but out here in the fringes, you are weak
what's with the arm twisters, the climbing-on-shoulders nuts?
you're alone with your righteousness, freak
brother, loner, impossible to figure, full tank, adjacent
we've lived the same life but we auto-fear, trigger happy
they are lifted by the tendrils of their fecund archetypes
they effortlessly grow virtue like a fingernail or polyp
we are in satellites, fire wagons, sinister life rafts needing
not shedding weight
what about the sanctioned predators at the apex of the pack,
smugly leaning back?