The Critic

They strut
in their blue lace
impressing each other
while the author
has long since
left the room.

The Critic II

Old Ejaw spreads himself over a rock in the sun
knowing I see him celebrating his luck.
A sardonic smile he smiles,

looking around, taunting and fearing.
while most of us float
half suffocating in passing currents,

Ejaw inflates, surveys
the number of watchers
still alive.