ㅁ I'll end up like him: angry, taciturn, anxious. And I'll have no friends. As an old person, I'll insist that change is bad, Reject solutions. "Oh the kids these days... Lazy and badly brought up. Get off my damn lawn!" "The world's getting worse The system's out to get us." What system is this? Occam's razor says Nah, it's random fluctuations. There's no evil there. Shrug. I'll hunker down, A misunderstood hermit. Let my soul get stale.
– six pseudo-haiku as stanzas in a longer poem.
I’ll remember to show you this poem when you’re as old as Art is now.