There's nothing that's quite as horrific
as an editor's pen prolific
marking off which word, which phrase, which page
survives unscathed the editor's rage.
['Rampage', perhaps, is more specific. Ed.]
You'll start to feel the imposition
of add and cut and transposition,
you'll start to fight for your wordy dream
against those changes that make you scream
Confronted with his erudition
your protest ends up in contrition.
Eventually you'll drop resistance,
you'll change it all at his insistence,
in this and each and every instance.
And all of this madness for a fee
you'll dearly wish that he just could be
edited right out of existence!
Peter Saint-Andre > Writings > Poems