To a Critic                                 

You made the mistake of praising my pain,
Flavius. This the connoisseurs of cool,
whose approval you seek and shall never gain,
could not condone. You should have known better.
They made you feel like a fool.
You joined in the laughter but it felt bitter.

And ever since you have panned
all work of my hand
with the result that I, too, despise you,
and I do not wish you well.
Yet I took no pleasure when I heard Junius tell
Cinna your wife had surprised you

in bed with her yoga teacher the same week
you were charged with plagiarism and ate a steak
with poison in it and were socked on the train
by some dumb jock. I feel your pain,
Flavius. Not even a shmuck
like you deserves such lousy luck.

To a Rival                         
 
More beautiful than daffodils
in February or the face
that is always turned away
from the earth was Diana
 
a dance major at the High
School of Performing Arts
whose legs were long when
skirts were short, and what
 
was she doing with you
Junius, lecherous bastard who
tried to fuck every girl he met
how could she fall for your shit?
 
Though I was born with a stutter
Junius I will denounce you yet
and win awards for my oratory
in a full session of parliament