cover letter to a legendary literary magazine

Dear Sir and or Madame


Enclosed you will find ten
spanking new poems ( I
should know as I personally
spnaked each one before I
sent it out).

I believe you will find these
poems to be a good fit for
your magazine. They are
written in ancient Aztec
iconic free verse pentameter
3/4 meter with a smattering
of confessionalism and the
dirty reality of Fante--son,
not father--on genuine
parchment paper with a quill
from 1758 in my own blood

I also want it known that i am
a recovering drug addict which
makes me a tortured soul, and
as we all know, no one can write
poetry like a tortured soul of
misfortune ( especially if that
misfortune is self inflected and
can be used later as a ploy to
get published).

If you choose not to publish
these priceless gems of the
human condition that reflects
my massively insecure poets
narcissism, then i will conclude
that you are no judge of fine
literary works and would not
recognize such from the ass
of a dead camel rotting in the
desert and that you suck pig
shit through a paper straw and
that your scrotum is diseased.


Thank you for your consideration,


Sincerely,
Buddhakitty.