A Cloistered Life

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A man of minuscule talent but much reading
his were never shy loves or romantic yearnings.

Other than with himself he has to pay for sex, keeps
a parade of sneers above his grubby trouser secrets.

Said by apologists not to tolerate fools gladly, aloof,
his every caustic aside is but a bookish quote.

Concerned less with ideals than with earnings
he has produced works allegedly metaphysical.

Not so: a bubble puffed out by learning he is yet
just another intellectual frightened of the simply said.

His were never shy loves or romantic yearnings.