Ode To An Editor

Ode To An Editor

Damn it all to hell! How dare you re-write my words!
Oh how important I sound. How idealistic.
Oh what an ass I am making of myself—again!
What can I tell you that will make you understand?
Force you into my corner—no wait. I don't want to force you to do anything.
Yes, that's right.
Who am I to try to coerce you into believing what you do not believe?
Shit and damn it all to hell I say!

Okay, let's start over.
I most deeply regret being of such a bad artistic attitude.
My attitude—oh I could tell you stories, but you don't want to hear them believe me.
They would just make you even more upset that a cretin, such as I, has not been executed long ago.
So let us discuss the point at hand—my words.
Yes those!
You want a sentence changed? Yes, yes, I know it will flow better you say.
But damn it man! That is the point, it is not supposed to flow there, it is supposed to bite and
drive home a feeling. If we do it your way--

1. You change the meaning of the sentence, so we don't say what I intended to say.
2. You are more concerned with diction, the outer flow of the piece than the inner. In doing so you fall prey to all those mediocre expressions that are safe and boring and miss the sharp edge of the original.

Christ and damn it all to hell!
There is no point to trying to reach you.
I wanted to apologize for being such a jerk, and now I find myself getting all worked up again and ready to make an even bigger ass of myself.
So let's just quit right now.
You are offended by my attitude? I don't blame you.
I am offended by it myself from time to time.
So let's just leave it at that.
Don't publish my poem because I have a bad attitude.
Cheers.
Yours truly, the asshole.