poem #31

muldoon
 
WITH APOLOGIES TO PAUL MULDOON
 
In my opinion, New Yorker poetry is shit,
to say nothing of the shittier fiction.
So of course my friend’s piece
on transubstantiation
was accepted.
I had to congratulate her.
“Dear,” I said, “I think you can be
another serialized
hack now,
stripped
of vitality and identity
the rest of your pitiable life.”
To which she replied,
“Fuck you, Kirstin.
Fuck you.”
 
– Kirstin O’Connor
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