dismissed

It’s not that your argument is attacked or

your precious name is so sorely wounded, 

it’s the seat at the front of the class, 

the preciousness of the teacher’s pet, 

ever so smart and the last of 

any given word. Sitting astride 

your simulation riding each

tautology around your ivory tower, 

your booming voice not accustomed to

a fair fight. Accountable to

consequence at your end of

the invective, unaware 

that you never learned to punch

your weight, surprised at how 

heavily the canvass hits you,

canceled by the count.