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The Rejection
By
Steven Hoadley
Just got another rejection.
I sent them poems from the gut
not the head
not from my heart
or soul
but from the barrel of my gut.
The place
that fires off
the indigestible shit
it just can’t stomach
anymore.
Repelled innards
must not be
their thing.
They told me
they want poems that. . . .
"Aim
towards
capturing
a
certain
essence
that
paints
a
picture
of
divine
beauty
that
cannot
be
reached
within
any
other
art
form;
something
to
immerse
the
reader
into
a
welcomed
world
of
arresting
images
that
jerk
the
eyes
onto
the
page
and
leaves
the
reels
of
the
mind
turning
long
after
the
poem
is
finished."
Mother of the bleeding Christ child! What the fuck was
that?
Not sure I'll ever know
but I have something for him. . . .
Save that dense
pretentious
saturated
crap-passing-for-poetry
for your own submissions.
Leave my rejections out of it!
Copyright © 2004 Steven Hoadley
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