The moment he figures out that
He has met someone smarter than him,
His heart sinks a bit, in recognition
That he himself should be smarter.
Yet here he is, face to face
With one who is his better
In this particular way,
And does he ask questions?
Does he seek to learn?
No.
He gets through the meeting
And then keeps the smarter one
At arm’s length thenceforward.
And how curious this psychology!—
That he should at once
Regret his own deficit of knowledge,
Yet waste the opportunity to
Do something about it.
He admires the smarter one—
From afar, perhaps—
But won’t lift a finger to
Make himself more admirable.
And he is one of billions like this,
Who keep the world as it is
By keeping themselves as they are—
Stuck in dullness and afraid to get out.
They may not like it,
But they do prefer it this way.
