by John Krieg

Dear Mr. Krieg

You contacted us long ago
Or, we think it was you
No matter, because whatever you were selling
We are not buying

We take this time now, Mr. Krieg
To contact you with no good news
On the off chance that you may have thought
That you could have ever received any good news from us
That’s an impossibility, judging by your obvious lack of talent

We’re dismayed that you contacted us at all
What were you thinking, Mr. Krieg?
That we readily accept second-rate work?
That your writing would be perceived as good
because of an association with this house?

What would make you think, Mr. Krieg
That after a lackluster thirty-year career
As a thoroughly uninspiring author
That something was going to come along and happen
That would miraculously allow you to bask in success

We would wish you better luck
In placing your work elsewhere
But we wouldn’t wish your work upon
Anyone else in our industry
Even our very worst enemies

We do not wish that we had better news for you
We do not wish that we could be more encouraging
Your work cries out for discouragement
Your work has no chance of improvement
Your work is shit

We are signing off now, Mr. Krieg
We can only hope that you can see why we
Implore you to stop writing
The world is full of hacks
Without further ado, we send your work back