projectile vomited
onto laps of unimpressed
disdain for spewed
vowels and consonants
shows clearly on faces
unable to clean
the offending mass
of retched verses
I slink away
never to expose
this feeble talent again
"Open Mike 7 P.M. Next Friday"
perhaps just
one more time
________________________
And so I sent out this poor little poem and the rejection it got was delightful.
Dear Ms Laura Jayne,
Thank you for your submission of The Reading to our magazine. At this time we do not find a place in our publication for a work that includes the phrase "projectile vomited." We wish you luck in placing this elsewhere.
Editor
And now at last I have a place to place it elsewhere. Yeah, I had to create that place, but the sad poem has a place at last.
3 comments:
hahahaha - forgive me LJ but I must
I like the poem, it made me smile and then you're letter recieved just topped it off.
I'm so happy it find's itself cozy here. Honestly...these are words found in my house daily (vomit, poop, fart, throw up, boogers...you know how it is) ;o>.
You should have enclosed an accompanying photo.
"A few weeks later, I went with both men to a reading at the Mistral Bookstore on the Left Bank. Forty or fifty people were in attendance. Another poet was reading his own work.Ginsberg was outraged and yelled, "That isn't poetry." Someone yelled back,"What is your definition of poetry?" Ginsberg stripped off all his clothes and recited his poems naked." from I'll Always Have Paris by Art Buchwald.
The best poet is also a visual artist. Not everyone will appreciate the vivid imagery. I did!
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