Sortition Poem by Hannington Mumo

I should opt out of the lameness and the cacophony
That mundane minds find ever so irresistibly sweet;
And I now must start to frown upon the minutiae
Advanced by trite wits on the broadening street.

No more shall I deem commonness nice,
Nor virtue's chills inferior to fires of vice.
Rose's glamor I'll shield from canker's pallor,
Humble desert from the vain upstart's valor.

No longer shall my unpretentious compassions go
To balm the recurrent wounds of thankless blokes,
Nor bless the rehearsed trends set by mimicked law,
Nor water for new growth old norms' stunted wits.

For has not plain speech her simple logic spoken,
Giving each arcane idiom its subtly inferred token?
And every masked wisdom her explicit intends,
Hidden sense the ultimate reason for her bends?

The most prudent life has chain banality that tires,
Yet it's all far better than otiosity's deceiving fires.