Life-Pros Poem by Eric Gibson

I fear your pompous nature.
Yes, yours.
I fear that holy sword of criticism
You carry with savage
Secret.

Why do you omit people
Of difference and lesser
Intellect?
Why can't you be angelic,
As Ginsberg says?
You furrow your brows
Then
Scorn her smile
And soft simplicity?

What war do you fight? ? ?
What faceless tyrants provoke you
Into such terrible conviction?
What jet of enlightenment has sailed
You to perfection, you smarmy,
Little prince?

You.

Your throne of pity
With swift revulsion
Reigns over muddy nowheres
That echo not your authoritarian
Bells.