Love he doesn't know.
Still, duty he understands.
Patterns he recognizes.
All useful in
functioning
evenly with
the tide
and the flow
of the swarm.

The grand experiment
is ever so alive
to one
who does long
for what the
old world
did not have
a name.

The pursuit of happiness¹
as a measure
so inexplicably
luxurious –
perfectly made
to make
the ever-working,
protestant,
duty-bound mind
furious
for its audacity.
And the challenge
it states.

Missing from our lives,
we long for that
place where
happiness became
currency.
Despising the deeds
of its children
we still sense its command.

For human is who we are
and human our desires
shall be.

A dutiful, functioning
piece of a spectacular
clock on a wrist
can never be
free
just as our very own
longings wish us
to be.