Long Con Poem

Learning stuff is the long con of all time,
so when you’re 80% done with living,
there’s just no need for it, no payoff.
Now you’re like a demoted scientist
who’ll never see the results of the fruit flies,
bred for 14,000 generations in the dark
to see how things will curl up and wither
(or grow enormous and telepathic).
You drip the papaya syrup into the plastic cube
and click the kitchen timer
before putting the numbers down
in time for a coworker birthday at lunch,
featuring a flight of store-brand sodas.

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