So much passion,
serialized on bus-shelter walls,
and not even a nomination
for the Nobel Prize.
Kilroy was disconsolate.

Frisked by a brisk wind,
his white chalk a furtive firefly,
Kilroy crafted his inscriptions.
Not for him the flippant,
hit-and-run literature of today.

His most ambitious works —
Kilroy était ici and Kilroy était ici aussi —
executed after evening-class upskilling
at the Polytech,
were promptly panned.

And worse. Wednesday's dawn
revealed the xenophobic editing of Dreadlock
in a spray-can red,
the annotations of Incarcerator
in fluorescent green.

On Friday, Kilroy bit the bullet:
joined a focus group,
signed up for seminars
on networking and self-empowerment.
Gotta move with the times.