Shopworn Rejection Slips
Dear cubic zirconium crystal from Home Shopping Network,
I am writing to inform you, if at first you don’t receive a rejection letter,
submit your poem, again. An accepted poem is one that didn’t receive a rejection letter. Not to call the color of our rejection letters coal,
but published poems do not make any lemonade to drink.
Only years slowly mash their gums about how old my printing press is.
Did you try WordPress? I might as well be worn as the Appalachians
before I read your poem, if it is sent USPS, and please buy the envelopes
and return postage yourself. We write many rejection letters each day.
Still, be as brave as a mouse at the feet of a Transvaal lion.
Be as glib as you are with friends and enemies, no matter how
much heart you devour, nor how many assault rifles you shoot,
I see you were raised behind a writer’s desk.
Were you really raised behind a writer’s desk?
Very well, then, you were raised behind a writer’s desk.
You are immense like your notebook, you contain pages.
I yawp over your pen, over the raisin stained wood to myself.
We are not belligerent at you, we are belligerent with you.
Graffiti to appear on Trump’s Wall.