21st century has only provided us artists, indeed "artists" in terms of being able to read musical scripts, rather than write them, a bit like that fable of the two "intelligent" law enforces: one can read, the other can only write; all future art will only serve a pardon of plagiarism, and a clarinet player will be as much the artist to have produced borodin's prince igor polovtsian dances, as borodin himself, hunched in silence hallucinating each and every note.*

i use to cycle mad across the platitudes,
i used to play squash two times a week,
i used to pump iron in the gym thrice
a week, i used to scale the crag in
edinburgh with rock climbing shoes,
i used to weigh 80kg at most...
and if my memory serves me right,
i never got laid, now the bubblier me
at 115kg i'm more content than when
i served such pitiable vanities of an
invisible catwalk;
i used to eat fruit compulsively,
and drink only once a week - conscious
of the calorie intake -
now i eat fruit scarcely, and drink every day,
and at 115kg i'm more content than when
i was so self-conscious to be involved in
feminine games of chase / reward / chase / reward,
that game of translating pavlov;
as it turns out there's a fulfilment in a celibacy
without a monastic decree, as the joke resounds:
dentist sooner a suicide, chemist sooner a bachelor.