The greatest poet of his generation
Reaches out for validation
Like a little boy saying, look, look, look
And you can hear the applause of a book
In the wind. Assholes are born, not made.
They live in their own perpetual shade.
When others breathe deeply with sun on their lips
They lose their grip. They grade
Themselves higher than the rest. They test
Our capacity for forgiveness,
For empathy with the worst of the worst.
I think I have that, and it's for the best
When dealing with the greatest poet
Of his generation. After all, he's not
Only an asshole. Something in his verse
Redeems his petty space on earth.
