Joop, an insular sort, found it to be true

(the moral note his evil twin had hung

outside his doorstep two days earlier):

There's plenty of room

around doom and gloom.

Joop, his atomized soul now fully mushroomed,

was finding his personal space

enlarging in exponential proportions,

the density of air around his head

feeling almost too thick

to breath in as it echoed with

such dark emptiness.