Knowing It All

Iambic pentameter, my little
bit of erudition;Hegel might smirk
at the words running away from me as
if they were on some kind of a mission
(and the proper poets here might point out
that my syllabic stresses are not where
they ought to be).

So bring it on, all you
old-time existers, you selfish hoarders
of experiences that were meant for
me.

And yes, it's true the world does owe me
a living and a half that I'll fight for
spit and hammer and tongs if that's the way
it has to go.

And what will I do when
I have them?

Take them with on my journey,
ignoring their advice - it's Mars or bust!