The Convention

There was a convention Of hypocrites That convened in redundant Adulation But he was not invited The man of the Daring Deuce. They spouted their Aspersions Redeemed their Aspirations Towering mediocrity To dwarf the voice That shatters glass And mingles with The blood of Earth. No, he was not invited But conveniently Exposed To ridicule Behind his back They laughed. How clever their Indignity How infinite their Reach To touch the stars One need only Lower The sky. (Previously published in The Courtship of Winds, Issue 1, January 2000)