Dear Sir,
I regret to inform you that the loose bound letters you sent
Have too many exclamation points to have been written by me.
Perhaps you can find that author in the stagnant room with you
Between the evaporating pencil marks and cyclical conversations.
Don’t let another utterance of the missing pages pass your lips.
They are unnecessary; the end of the novel speaks for itself.
From one starving bard to another,
I advise you don’t get your hopes up at the publishing office this time.
No comments:
Post a Comment