Sonnet: Auto-Ritrato as Ancient Roman Poet

Upon awakening, the cat just walks.
Man is a semicolon; he needs the grammatical hybrids.
Physics made a face at this.
There's an overflowing house of quotes
where it is impossible to live
and that's where most of us end.
I trust starlings.
He cries.
Sometimes I think:
Steal Ganymede.
Or not.
You die on me.
What's left squabbles
with the polite illumination
that poses as the world.