In Definite

My feelings were indefinite, at odds,
For nothing, to be thought of sensibly,
Of no account, on no account to be
Considered worthy of the Roman gods,
Who look askance at my life. Homer nods –
Who here among us would dare disagree?
My life is hollow, spare, cheap, fragrance-free,
Indelicate and sad, subject to frauds

Perhaps two fewer fingers in this glove
Remain to point out how the neighbourhood
Is full of thugs and poorly understood
Purveyors of some sort of shadow love.
To, in, among, without, with, for, through, of –
Make me a preposition, if you would.