New Poem: OLD MAN POETRY

if I was a tenured professor 

previously published

by universities and prestigious

small presses, plus literary journals,

I could be very lazy indeed

writing with feeling only about my youth

while sticking out my elevated tongue 

at the foibles of much younger people—

secure in the knowledge 

that my esteemed poet friends

will look the other way,

continuing to lay carpets

over every place I walk

to keep me from stepping on splinters—

gilded and otherwise 

Daniel Nester's cringeworthy poetry open-mike etiquette post.

http://blog.bestamericanpoetry.com/the_best_american_poetry/2015/11/20-things-not-to-do-at-an-open-poetry-reading-by-daniel-nester.html

The above counts as poets--most of them having separated themselves sufficiently from allegedly less-talented companions--still eager to eat their own.

But, of course, with alleged humor.

Like drinking vinegar: the "I'm better than you" poem.

Here's Dian Sousa prefacing her poem by bemoaning a job that took her to Las Vegas and (oh, the horror) made her sell Hello Kitty purses:
http://youtu.be/sCclGMcuohQ

Perhaps I'm a relative failure as a poet because I don't think I'm better than others.