Critic
Why am I better than all other men?
I do not have to prove it. I admit it.
Here is the nail, and I am here to hit it.
A blow that glances somewhat now and then.
With pure intention I take up the pen
That writes the truth, if any ever writ it.
Venom is vulgar. I decline to spit it.
Still if I must—Well, nine times out of ten
I do. I am tired. That book must be a bore.
Jones wrote it. He was rude to me at lunch,
And nobody quite likes him in our bunch.
Smith said he liked my novel. In my bones
I feel that I like Smith. But more and more
My conscience tells me to eviscerate Jones.
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on February 8, 2026, by the Academy of American Poets.
“Critic” was published in Leonard Bacon’s Lost Buffalo and Other Poems (Harper & Brothers, 1930). In his review of the book, published in The New Freeman, Vol. 1 (1930), poet and literary critic Horace Gregory writes, “[Bacon] steers very closely indeed to the English tradition of light satirical verse. [...] His satire is unpretentious and disarming, gently poking fun at the manners and customs of another age than ours. Perhaps he will never gain the polish and grace characteristic of the urbane Victorians, or the slick perfection of the contemporary musical revue artist; but the projection of his sly naivete upon the printed page is a deliberate art and a refreshing one.”