take that cock out of your mouth, you look like a sycophant

i read the man
with honesty and criticism
i read him,
believing

and
without much surprise
i found bits of gold
between his words
threads of sincerity
he had a mind for it,
a knack even

the more i looked, i saw
he had only the grace to
catch the glint of,
or
the surface gestures
mere reflections
-i felt betrayed

my attentions were unmet
as he prattled on about the
colour Red,
or this and that
about Marseilles, and such
and such
about how the Junk boats
float about Hong Kong’s Harbour

had he never been?
only dreamed?

and his God awful bio
(self-written, mind)
full of ‘Murica, & stuffy
patriotism
gun waving, flag supporting
bullshit

how had i been so blind?
i believed too deeply
to properly critique
and i told Him so

it ruffled Him,
so obviously
he cut contact with a child’s
swollen ego

and i laughed, and i laughed
he was naked
with nothing in way of defense

now, He
has managed to find ten thousand more
idiots to blindly go
where he leads

and not one of them
reads, actually reads
Poetry

it should be easy
to find celebrity
when you avoid intellectuals

and what of me?
I continue on
as though we had never met

I believe in the word,
and saying the hard thing

tarnishing my own image
if must
to lay bare
the most indecent acts of human
capacity

we are disgusting, we are
but not more so
than the ignorant
in need of a shepherd

follow me not for my words
but that I may go headfirst
into the unsteady place
and describe
all that I find there

follow me not for my beauty
but that I too am hideous,
unkind,
and fragile

follow me not
for I
am just a man

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.

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