I understand the science and I know
some facts about our struggle to survive.
We aren’t fish; our arms and hands don’t grow
to wings; we never organize a hive.
And yet I’m lately stricken with unease
at how my peers appear to me alone.
I see some women buzz like worker bees,
and every man I date acts like a drone.

There seems to be a horde of boyish men,
who never learned sex etiquette or tact,
who lived in monkish circumstances, when
we all assumed experience. In fact,
a mass of males matured in boomer noise,
and never shed the crudity of boys.