self-congratulatory nonsense as the <br />famous gather to applaud their seeming <br />greatness <br /> <br /> <br />you <br />wonder where <br />the real ones are <br /> <br /> <br />what <br />giant cave <br />hides them <br /> <br /> <br />as <br />the deathly talentless <br />bow to <br />accolades <br /> <br /> <br />as <br />the fools are <br />fooled <br />again <br /> <br /> <br />you <br />wonder where <br />the real ones are <br /> <br /> <br />if there are <br />real ones. <br /> <br /> <br />this <br />self-congratulatory nonsense <br />has lasted <br />decades <br />and <br />with some exceptions <br /> <br /> <br />centuries. <br /> <br /> <br />this <br />is so dreary <br />is so absolutely pitiless <br /> <br /> <br />it <br />churns the gut to <br />powder <br />shackles hope <br /> <br /> <br />it <br />makes little things <br />like <br />pulling up a shade <br />or <br />putting on your shoes <br />or <br />walking out on the street <br /> <br /> <br />more difficult <br />near <br />damnable <br /> <br /> <br />as <br />the famous gather to <br />applaud their <br />seeming <br />greatness <br /> <br /> <br />as <br />the fools are <br />fooled <br />again <br /> <br /> <br />humanity <br />you sick <br />mother*****.<br /><br />Charles Bukowski<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/this/
