a poem for misanthropes

Across the globe
as far as it spins (safely believe me, I've been,)
it's just warring monkeys...
(and so few of us win!...)

only to end up
within a generation or seed:
craven, aggrandized street queens
weightily dressed down in vanity gold...

sporting millennia of useless education
(primitive asiatic-trivia mouthed from fool to fool...,)
they constitute the ascendant layer
in the grand pyramid of sapien mold