All of you.
Where do you get off
making a name for yourself
out of the mockery
in fallen heroes’ hearts?
What’s in a name;
that which we call
"a genius"
by another label
would be found on the front page
of the obituaries.

And now,
what?
Where do you go from
the top,
looking down on those you
trampled on the way
with some false sense of humility?
How we perceive you now
is like that of a crime lord;
envious,
never aspirational.

Might as well
call it a day
and take note of the
fallacy
that is fame and fortune.

These bright minds,
reaching further
and further
into space

As if there aren’t enough
problems
down below

Maybe they’re simply trying
to get away,
just like the rest of us

the disease of despair
gambling
suicide
hate
sadism

symptoms, not causes
of the brown blood
drained from swines'
pockets

gather up your coat
and your hat
for the primetime
event

everyone says
strong bootstraps
beget rewards
while leagues
of craftsmen
struggle

everyone follows
another trend
overboard while
Davy Joneses
hold their
breath

everyone feels
their sin
beside beggars
with hands
made of
*******

everyone thinks
job creators’
heroic strength
will someday
trickle down
decency

but

everyone knows
when something
is heavy
you lift
from the
bottom

I’m sure it’ll be a great party
even though I’m dressed like a Barbie
it’s all in good fun
I won’t drink more than one
and they probably won’t even card me.

I’m sure the flyers aren’t serious
the cover girls all look delirious
the guys all wear suits
while the women “let loose”
but I can’t justify the criteria.

I’m sure it was one great big joke
the way your fraternal friends spoke
it wasn’t the way
you called me your bae
it’s just that I’ve never been groped.

I’m sure it wasn’t your fault
and it wasn’t really assault
so let’s just forget
the ***** and the sweat
and take it with a grain of salt.

I’m sure there’s nothing to fear
and in nine months to a year
we’ll give in to fate
and when you graduate
we can shack up and share a career.

Now I’m sure I was being naive
turns out your name wasn’t Steve
and all the support
you swore not to retort
leaves me nothing to do but to grieve.

No matter how much strength of yours is kept
It always comes back down to whom you know
For every time you think you are adept
The caws of meritocracy doth crow

Americans have dreamt in dreams of gold
High hopes upheld with promises of clout
By working hard there’s fortune to behold
Lest lack of means cause gatekeepers to doubt

Yes, push that rubble up the sacred hill
To watch it fall and tumble to the depths
For all eternity it is your will
To pay with sweat and blood for all your debts

Perhaps if only there were something more
To lifting destitution from the floor

To Whom it May Concern,

My blood begins to burn
and I’m compelled to spurn
the current plans to turn
our mascot to a worm.

The members from my firm
cannot stay taciturn
when our alumni learn
that strangers overturned
the past we had governed
because they’re all stubborn,
seeking to be modern
and spread, exploit and churn
their folly and their germs.

I urge you to discern
the consequence you’ll earn
unless you can confirm
our legacy long-term.
We will not adjourn
until it’s reaffirmed
that history is stern
and keeps our old pattern.

If you do not concur
and submit to our terms,
then surely you will yearn
for courtesy interns
as funding will downturn
and we will watch you squirm
like spiders in an urn
at the point of no return.

Sincerely, Dr. Kern

doesn’t matter

it’s the fact that
every last one of

you

thinks we shouldn’t
and that’s where
you’re wrong

give us an alternative
that will raise the bar
that high
that fast
from that little

you can’t

i don't blame you for not trying