When people look at me askance,
It must be due to my inhumanity,
As if I escaped from a zoo,
I’m a troglodyte,
Beneath even the street throng,
A subhuman,
I long to be human,
To be more than this primate clown,
Playing with sticks and berries,
I want to be one of them,
To evolve from this crude form,
To walk shoulder-to-shoulder with them,
Instead I shriek and crawl,
Not yet evolving into a man,
I howl in trees,
Revelling in my genetic inferiority,
Instead of maturing into society,
I shelter lifelong in the primeval habitat I made,
A habitat of reclusion,
Out in the wilds.
