The Future Freaks Me Out

I was wronged by fate (or so it seemed) clocked at over fifty mph. Bored by books that weren’t so byzantine, lunged at by the world. I am wrenched from day to day on knotted string; hollowed like a tree. Corralled in a hangar and left to run around, furrowed and gutted and stir-crazy. I will be crushed by closing chords, flourished by monkeys, traitors to their breed. Besotted with science, with stars and the like Honed in on nothing but fame.