A Cloistered Life
A man of minuscule talent but much reading
his were never shy loves or romantic yearnings.
Other than with himself he has to pay for sex, keeps
a parade of sneers above his grubby trouser secrets.
Said by apologists not to tolerate fools gladly, aloof,
his every caustic aside is but a bookish quote.
Concerned less with ideals than with earnings
he has produced works allegedly metaphysical.
Not so: a bubble puffed out by learning he is yet
just another intellectual frightened of the simply said.
His were never shy loves or romantic yearnings.