Malignant inoculum

Tired of repeating
The same variations on a theme
A horse made fluid
The same narrow eyepiece
Focusing on a piece of cardboard
Demanding recognition
For immaculate mediocrity
On uncertain terms
Poking organ deep, gently
As an experiment
And then looking upward
For a response
From stolid forms assumed tangible
To the question
“Why wasn’t I invited?”