That an idea all’s sweet because you’ve gotten
to the ‘top of the heap’ doesn’t gel easy - pique
tastes bitter as lemon gall when you get to see
that observations you’d paid dearly for were an
obfuscation of lesser-rung views from far-away
ladders of unequal-opportunity deigned all real
players trivial pursuit ascending on into etheric
impressions of inexplicable discontinuity
Who’s idea’s this, you mutter, as if explanation
is possible without committing perjury: within a
stated ambition you’d claimed to be the best in
view - with your reward as retaining their faith -
yet all you see is what the others gave in their
unquestioning homage - as collateral to you
© 30 April 2015, I. D. Carswell
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