To Whom it Concerns

As an editor, the following is definitely my favourite sort of correspondence. Nothing brightens our day like some harsh but fair constructive criticism. I was not the recipient of this email, but it has fallen into my hands through other channels. I may post the reply tomorrow. Names withheld.

Subject: your shit publication

Dear Sir, Madam or to whom ever the fuck it may concern.

“Buzzards” by Someone is maybe the best poem written in this shit country since the second coming. John Bancille has described it as “the unofficial anthem of the recession” and Coetzee as “fucking epic”
Clearly you haven’t a clue about what constitutes great literature. Think of it as when whoever it was didn’t want to publish Kafka. Or when they decided not to turn Nic Cave’s script for Gladiator 2 into a movie.
When I am published, rich and famous I, and not you, will be the one laughing. Thats if I haven’t already set fire to your homes and raped your loved ones in the meanwhile.

In faith,

My giant cock

Published in: on June 10, 2009 at 7:21 pm  Leave a Comment  
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