Victor

                 Victor

    “and he limped like the devil himself”— Victor Hugo

This spitefulness arises in a man
When meeting someone larger than himself,
When he encounters someone greater than
His own capacities; makes him an elf—
Or Quasimodo—in comparison,

But jealous only, without high passion

Like the hunchback’s.  There’s a whole garrison

Of Périgord carpers, since their ration

Of talents and skills are quite pitiful.

They seem as ugly as Tracey Emin,

Their egos a bit Walter Mittyful,
All because of his scoring with women.
But still, setting this and that groan apart,
We can say he wasn’t a Bonaparte.

This poem is part of a shorter sonnet sequence within this large sonnet sequence called The Encyclopedia Sonnetica.  The shorter sonnet sequence is called “Encased in Silk.”  I recommend you read this poem where it is set in its sonnet sequence.  To do that, search for “Encased in Silk” here in The Encyclopedia Sonnetica.