Are We There Yet

On a dull return from somewhere

I found myself enveloped in a lengthy discussion

Bordering on debate, as to the truth behind

The coveted emerald curtain

Emboldened by my own self-righteous

Contemplations excised from years of wandering

I set forth, feet firmly planted

On the slippery slope of the high ground

Balancing the even higher horse I am

Prepared to climb upon at a moment’s notice

A verbal assault of regurgitated nonsensical proverbial

Bile, fed to us by the self-proclaimed intellectuals

Screaming down a winding road, choking and blinding

The drinkers of the poisoned well, before coming

To rest at the bottom, adding to the heaping pile of shit

That we are all inevitably barreling toward