I Submit To The Magazines
I submit to the magazines,
and I do this with a smile
and sugar in my heart.
And I submit again
and they reject me.
Tell me that they’re
thankful for my time
but it’s just not what
they’re looking for right now.
Tell me that my poems
make their vaginas dry.
I submitted to the New Yorker;
I should be hearing back soon.
I bet their vaginas are drying up too.
I bet the whole world is eating
their flax seeds and salmon now.
Horror Sleaze Trash 