'Out of the cradle, endlessly rocking...'

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

a poem...

Your Poem Does Not Meet Our Needs At This Time



Dear Sir,

You show your sail of greatness, as this verse
you’ve sent is nothing like the devil’s due
in rhyme (for you have joined the blessed few
among the poets he won’t deign to curse), 
so, will you think it vain that I rehearse
the virtues of your poem? Let others sue
me shirtless if I notice something true
therein, or fail to note how you inhearse
each word in an alliterative train,
a tomb for the signifieds that you disdain 
in such a way as to inspire pure dread
among those poets who conspire to wed
the sign to some real thing, that strain
you’ll never sense though every Muse complain.

Sincerely,


The Editor

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