Mediocrity

Wondered how to pave the way
to walk on paths of gold inlay? ‘Tis
easy see – woo paparazzi of poetry.

There’s no such thing, you blithely
say, although intrigued, knowing
poets are not news commodities.

Think again. To be celebrity you play
the game. Take a stance and run for
every chance exposure you can get.

Remember – though a dose of scandal
always sells, it rarely pays the fees; a
tainted rep that says you pee in taxis

won’t dismiss a truth, especially if it’s
true and you’re incontinent indeed in
words as well as deeds unsavoury.

Proof’s in what you say and who reads
who. Believe in free society if you must,
but heed a coterie of dimwit fans who

sound your bell. You pull the rope, they
tinkle free and, well, other dopes come
flock along to see the hell what’s goin’ on.

Don’t matter you can’t write or spell. The
wealth is in stupidity, a commonwealth
that binds you cheek to cheek.

And the meek shall inherit – mediocrity!
© 5 March 2008, I. D. Carswell