Somebody pushed the automatic fuck-you button today,
not the due-to-the-volume-of-submissions-we-receive button,
nor the it-does-not-fit-our-editorial-needs button;
the we-have-read-with-great-interest-your-work button has been
replaced, and rest assured, will be pushed in due course.
The we-wish-you-luck-placing-your-work-elsewhere button
is being saved for your second submission for fear of a third.
No, the mug-of-hot-coffee-thrown-in-the-face approach,
or the poke-me-in-the-eyeballs-with-a-long-sharp-stick approach.
None of that lay-me-down-gently-and-stroke-my-wounded-ego approach,
or a sit-you-down-there-and-put-the-handle-of-this-hairbrush-between-
your-teeth approach —
no, a good kick-in-the-bollox-and-start-again approach as those up
for adoption stare back with their air of told-you-so.
All rights reserved.
If we can't poke fun at ourselves, what's the point?