Here’s to those who reject my submissions.
He thought his poems buoyant and zephyrous.
The editor’s note was obstreperous:
“Your zealous hyperbole,
Has made your consistency leprous.”
What would I want hewed as my epitaph?
An engraved rhyme? On bronze plaque?
On wooden cross, lettered black
“A momentary set back?”
The viewer, in a somber mood, likes wit.
A poetry critic was grave:
“Stubbled verse rated a shave.
For once he’s learned to behave.”