The golden man, sitting in his tiny tumbling house, had lost his shine. Apparent not in the mirror, but on the tv, by the young playing ball, and he couldn't help but to compare as he yearned. The golden man had lost his manness, not apparent in his body, but by the tv, he couldn't help but to covet, the frolic nuzzle happiness made him weary with memory. The golden man had lost his now and future, disappeared, by this unexpected, unpredictable, movement of matter.