Best Poems Written by Mishma Rose

Higher Order Thinking

I never meant to be a Professor,
   to keep records,
   to rank,
   to judge,
   to preen.

A crow among peacocks,
   I record your scores,
      pretending they measure your skills.
   I rank you among your peers,
      Dutifuly quantifying your humanity.
   I judge you by assigning a mark
     That emerges from the ethers.

And yes, I peacock.
   Peacock is a verb, a transitive one.
   Creusa, the object of Medea's scorn,
   peacocked her proto consumer lust
   just before she succumbed to the higher order
     of fire and air and blood and bile.

I never planned to display my gaudy feathers before a captive audience.
Pursuing Medea, Jason's royal trinkets led me astray.

Copyright © Mishma Rose | Year Posted 2012