My adoring fans
by which I mean
my family, co-workers
and those lucky enough to call me “debtor”
will sometimes ask me
“How is it, always being right?
It must be difficult
being so much smarter
than everyone else.”
And I respond,
“You have no idea.

“It is some strange form
of torture
to have to talk down
so frequently
to so many.
“You could probably not imagine
how it is
to have only a third of your references appreciated,
half of your arguments understood,
and approximately seventy seven
seventy eighths of your propositions rejected,
no doubt because the silly cows didn’t even realize they were being hit on
by such a massive intellect as mine.

“I would never be so immodest as to suggest
‘I am too good for this world,’
but really,
do the math
– if you can.”

And that’s just about when the fans
tell me they were joking
and I invariably respond that
“I knew that.”