The best are often better than I,
Not because I am so appalling;
But because they are so well
It’s all about who you know in
this industry—
or that. And, well, I just never
cared much
for people.
They stink; Cause traffic jams;
Lick their fingers at the buffet table—
and then slide a thumb in
to sample
the gravy;
And make small talk with you standing
behind them—
about their recent stomach illness.
They steal apples from their neighbors—
even ones that don’t fall over the fence;
Rapes your wife, my wife, his wife and
her wife. Cuts you off—
so that their minivan full of puking gags
is the first to STOP at the traffic light,
red & bright.
And then we stare at their asses
farting black smoke into our face.
I just don’t like these people, today.
The best are often better than I
because they are the chosen few
who decide
what is tolerable— acceptable—
and sometimes good, brilliant— or beyond.
I don’t get their thumbs up
too often. But as I pointed out earlier,
I wouldn’t want to.
They are filthy from too much sampling.

written on 12/24/2010 by: Matt Kane