Ignorance is the best defense
when circulating amid your dear lieutenants.
Tracers whisper as I pass, syllables click
to cut me down to size.
In vain, all in vain.
Up the long rise of the crowded stair
I catch your eye that follows closely
my approach.
I find myself in sympathy with your plight.
It’s lonely at the top, lonely at the bottom,
lonely everywhere you turn your fretful, supercilious eye.
Were there ever two enemies more vain,
more alike?
You would propose a marriage of convenience
and be rebuked, as conscious of appearances
as any scandal-ridden Pope.
It is not malice brings me joy at your suffering,
nor is my amusement so unlike your own.
We serve the same master, courtiers of a
vast and enigmatic lie,
bearing gifts to those whose tapers thin.
Corruption is the best defense,
and a luxury of words,
expelled with precise and absolute unbelief.