Careening Off a Superiority Complex
by V. Blake
hubris is a razorblade
with pet names for both my wrists.
this should come as no surprise, of course
(not after i got onto such familiar terms
with every other self-aggrandizing hack
who let me timeshare this cardboard box.)
but i could be the first to tell ya
that the view from the pedestal
is not just a little pixelated,
and the talents writing checks
are tenuous at best.
but it's not as though the facade
that looked so gorgeous from the ground
were not perfectly so called,
or as though i'm anyone to trust.
Author's Note: Poemuary entry #19.
Posted on 01/20/2010
Copyright © 2020 V. Blake
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Therese Elaine on 01/20/10 at 02:00 AM|
This has some of your best lines ever...and I love the smarminess of the used car salesman mixed with the debauched rockstar, the self-loathing author and the jaded trust fund brat...absolutely fantastic!!!
|Posted by Rachel Bennett on 01/20/10 at 02:02 AM|
Don't jump, man.
|Posted by Rachel Bennett on 01/20/10 at 02:03 AM|
Now that I've almost certainly misinterpreted this as a suicide from hubris, I'll say that I really enjoyed this poem, especially lines 4-6.
|Posted by Michael Smith on 01/20/10 at 07:13 AM|
One thing that consistently sticks out in your work is that you have an astoundingly expansive vocabulary, Vince.
I love the character you play in this. When one is humbled (or experiencing any feeling common with good character), it is a testimony to the character for a subsequent dismissing or misdirection to ensue.
|Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 01/20/10 at 05:49 PM|
salumptious genius ;)