Another Quarter Heard From
Written by John Erianne on February 2, 2007 – 4:25 pm -You self-righteous asshole! How dare you reject my poems in such a pompous and dismissive manner. Yeah, that’s right . . . I called you an ASSHOLE and what’re you going to do about it? You’re just mad because I write better than you could ever hope to. . . and yeah, I drink, so what? I can drink you under the table. One day, I’m going to be a big deal in the literary world and you’re going to be sorry you rejected me. In fact, you’re going to beg me to submit to your sorry rag and I’m going to tell you to go fuck yourself. – B.T. Manheim
Why can’t I ever start out the new year in peace? Why does every new year begin with a rejectee telling me what an asshole I am? Maybe I am an asshole. It’s possible. If so, isn’t this a case of the pot calling the kettle black? I mean what kind of person takes the time to respond to a rejection? Truth be told, I don’t even remember your poems or the rejection, B.T. I gather they had something to do with drinking and that I referenced that in some fashion in my rejection note. Were you the “outlaw poet” mentioned in my last blog entry? Is that the true source of your rancor? I do not know. But I can venture a guess that you are one of those young men chasing Bukowski’s legacy without truly getting Bukowski. You strike me as one among legions of bad poets who cling to the belief that poetry is an act of “self-expression” rather than an act of language and imagination. Sad, not only because it is a false belief but also because you obviously don’t feel comfortable in your own skin. Why else would you feel the need to drink anyone under the table if not to prove your manhood? I will concede you probably could drink me under the table as I gave up drinking a long time ago and never was one to drink anyone under the table when I did drink. Howver, I know for a fact that you could not write better than me because I wouldn’t have rejected your poems if I thought so. And I am not quaking in my boots over your emerging legend. I will be dust and bones before anyone is likely to beg you to submit anything. As to what I’m going to do about you? Absolutely nothing. I’m afraid it will take more than a snot-nosed young punk-assed bitch calling me an “asshole” to get my temper up. Now, leave me alone; it’s time for my nap.
