Mslexia Hates Me

Crazy new poem just came off the top of my head. Sometimes my inner psycho just has to come out. 1st draft, I am not taking this one further I shouldn't think! But I made myself laugh with it so here it is.

(I actually love Mslexia magazine, and as I have only just started writing seriously it's no surprise I haven't been published either there or anywhere else yet. But when you freewrite, as this started off as, you never know what deep dark psychoses you may uncover!)

Mslexia Hates Me

My paranoid side - (the one that tears open
every month the plastic wrapper in a flap
and fumble of...well...deluded hope) - tells me
that this well known literary magazine
hates me.

Every month's New Writing critique
is obviously aimed at me.

They wanted pure, unbridled emotion: they got it, surely?
They wanted the slightly
less suicidal, bordering on funny,
so I sent them some poems, three,

including one with pop culture references
to I'm A Celebrity. Why don't they see
that I'm the new TS Eliot, the next Kingsley
Amis, with a dash of Ruth Padel's sex appeal?
I'd give Carol Ann Duffy
a run for her money.

Every issue the same. Zilch. Diddly squat.
And yes, I know they get a lot

of cliched shit, but I'm in a league
of my own, and so the reason they keep on rejecting me
can only, as far as I can see, be

that the editors or whoever-it-is
hate me. But I'll show them, just you wait and see:
Soon I will be
famous for my poetry.

NB:
You see? How good I am, I mean?
This was certainly worth chopping down a tree.