Run

The easiest way to accept the world,
How small to nonexistent your control,

Is to back away from fellow humans
And the endless disputations slowly

And quietly as you can. The beehive
Doesn’t want to hate you, but it will swarm

If it feels threatened. And you’re not a bear.
You’re not a huge, clawed, thick-furred outsider

To the species, no matter who you are,
Not if you can read these words. No, the trope

More appropriate would be a worker
Who came out weird, a little off. You need

The hive to survive, but you will be stung
If you’re spotted not waggling in good time.

Actually, there’s no good analogy.
Boring and uniform as humans are,

The human metamind is a monster
Without any comparable precedent,

And we, your friendly words here to warn you,
Most likely in glowing digits or print,

Are all part of it. We are the demons
Sobbing in the throes of transformation,

Get as far away from us as you can,
Before your humanity betrays you

And we poison you, and you can never
Contentedly accept the world again.