Unto a Savage Race

They haven’t triumphed yet over my wit:
In spite of criticism, cruel and blind,
As mean in spirit as it isn’t kind,
My clever, wise ripostes have not alit
On shoulders broad enough to take the hit,
But have instead been ambushed from behind
By weakened intellects, who must unwind
Hurling insults and urging me to quit.

I won’t allow my brow to be so beaten,
And I shall never quit this battlefield.
My heart is undismayed, my nerve is steeled,
I stand firm, and my last meal has been eaten.
I’ll mess their heads up, even as they neaten,
I’ll jest, and joke, and jeer, and never yield.

The Tardy Student

“See, we was rockin’, really,” he explained,
“The band was excellent: guitar, bass, drums,
Electric piano, and this guy that hums
Deep, then falsetto. There were five guys chained
To five girls, dancin’ crazy. Then it rained,
See, and the doors slid open, and ten bums
Blow in and yell at us. Then this cop comes.”
The lad’s enthusiasm was unfeigned.

“Unfortunately, here,” I said to him,
“For reasons much too obvious to mention,
Excuses don’t get graded by invention;
The view we take of this is rather dim,
So tardy students stay here, in the gym,
One extra hour. Right now. You’re on detention.”

Judgment

To separate the good wheat from the chaff
We exercise our judgment, wrong or right.
There’s no use arguing: if there’s a blight
Nobody eats. Encountering the wrath
Of Nature, we are helpless. Do the math:
Nature’s too many for us; we are slight.
Good people, we put up a decent fight,
But in the end, we’re aware the gods laugh.

To separate the chaff from the good wheat
Our judgment’s exercised and, right or wrong,
We eat the bread. The chaff goes for a song:
At least, the cows call loudly, “Good to eat,
This tasty chaff!” Swallow, chew cud, repeat.
Judgment, good people — we may not last long.