I sure hate
to turn down your
invitation
to be the featured poet
in your next issue
but the thing is I am having
a kind of
a problem here with ego
my ego that is
which tends to get its
dander up
every time we come
across
some thirty something do/good
bitch like you
that only wants to talk that talk on icq
or get me to edit
your own stuff for you while
your absentee editor
(your live-in beau) gives you a big bear hug
and goes off to his radio show
to interview some other poor devil
hanging him out to dry
the way your mother used to do the wash
running it
through a hand wringer
and slapping the wrinkles away
so the light
catches each one just right
and everything ends up looking the same
dry and squeaky and all washed-out
like you