I know this poem is shit|
radioactive, even
Just like all the others, apparently
Because I submitted some of what
I thought were my best poems
to a publication that shall remain nameless
on a Friday
and was summarily rejected
by Tuesday morning
as if they couldn’t wash their hands
of this deadly isotopic dust quickly enough
lest it contaminate the work submitted
by real poets
I wonder if I would have been rejected
even sooner,
maybe even by the next day,
if I’d submitted the ones
I thought were really bad
