Love Like A Editor by John Patrick Robbins

Love Like A Editor

I was on a losing slump.
I wasn’t insane I knew the cards I held were shit but I kept playing the game.

I was the hero of my bullshit and somehow on occasion made others think I was worth more
than I truly was.

And although the cards may not be in my favor it never stopped me from trying to venture out of
my league more than a few times.

She was a friend I wanted something she couldn’t give.
And looking in the mirror I truly didn’t blame her.

I wrote it all down threw it on thick.
The only thing I was ever good with was words.

I sent it out and waited.
It was much like writing.
You sent your work to editors of small mags just in some hope of getting acceptance.

I waited she replied late that night.

She was kind but even a well polished rejection is a no all the same.

I imagined if she were a editor.
If love were like sending out work to the magazines.

Dear John.

Thank you for your interest in me as a future relationship.
But after deep consideration I am sorry to say it’s a no chance in hell from me.

I knew there would be no point in trying again.
I was great with words not so with people.

Looks like I had better fold and count my losses.

Editors hand out rejections on a daily basis I knew this from experience.

What a lonely life being a editor must truly be.

John Patrick Robbins is a barroom poet professional smart ass and fulltime drinker who's work can be read in inbetween Hangovers , Your One Phone Call. And most everywhere on the net and a few bathroom walls as well.
John Patrick Robbins is a barroom poet professional smart ass and fulltime drinker who’s work can be read in inbetween Hangovers , Your One Phone Call. And most everywhere on the net and a few bathroom walls as well.

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