The Convention

There was a convention
Of hypocrites
That convened in redundant
Adulation
But he was not invited
The man of the Daring Deuce.

They spouted their
Aspersions
Redeemed their
Aspirations
Towering mediocrity
To dwarf the voice
That shatters glass
And mingles with
The blood of Earth.

No, he was not invited
But conveniently
Exposed
To ridicule
Behind his back
They laughed.

How clever their
Indignity
How infinite their
Reach
To touch the stars
One need only
Lower
The sky.


(Previously published in The Courtship of Winds, Issue 1, January 2000)

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