How to Weld to Death

Most folks are hooked on folks.
There’s no hook, no drug like
Time to sniff kin and friends,
To bond in groups of love,

News, and rage for out-groups.
That’s just the way folks are.
You can sell them all sorts
Of lies and junk, but you

Must give them rings and rings
Of groups of kin and friends,
To chat with, to dote on,
To whine with, cling to, love.

The rings can cinch and grow
At once, mats of chained mail
So dense no edge could cut.
Folks die to be with folks.