To A Third-Rate Poet From Geneva, New York, Be On Your Way, Mr. Wise Guy, And Never Darken My Door Again: Your Vanity, You Are Less, Much Less Poem by Dennis Ryan

Tuesday morning, April 16: 2024 at 7: 20 a.m. and 7: 48 a.m.

—this poem is dedicated to a third-rate poet, poetaster, who clearly thinks a lot of himself

Third-rate poets are a dime-a-dozen—
foolish, arrogant, and egotistical they are,
abundant; they populate the pages here.
I ran into one yesterday, and the day before,
from Geneva, New York, of all places. Less.
I had to, quite unfortunately, put him in his place:
a small town, and an even a smaller mind. Less.
I had wanted to be helpful, kind, but he is the kind
of human being—I have encountered his kind
before—on whom kindness is lost, his arrogance
and ego being what they are: on full display. Go on
your way, Mr. Wise Guy, and never darken my door
again. You, your vanity—you are less, much less.