When you see the isolated isolationist in front of you
All you see is the memery-
The Thoreau-hater, the shouts of “Flex Tape!”.
But underneath, all that can be seen is the Malaise.
Although he may call himself scum,
Identify as swill, as swine.
There is not escape from the vanity.
No refuge from the refuse-
the annoyance that is the conceitedness.
You may only find scraps of virtue.
To be alive is to be an egotist-
this narcissist admits this.
