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The Editors? Adaptable,
   Inversions, though, they’ll hate,
Part-rhymes and chimes identical
   They do not tolerate.
Insist, resist, persist? Desist,
   Or they will press 'Delete'.
Your earnest efforts won’t be missed
   If standards you can’t meet.

Should clichés be your go-to thing
    Or slang in any circs,
A finer song you’ll need to sing
    Or they’ll reject your works.
All antique words, forsooth, forbear,
    They must not be employed.
Keep up to date, but shun what’s rare.
    Neolo-gems? Avoid.

Whenever possible excise
   As feeble, trite, jejune,
Most witty things you thought were wise,
   But jotted down too soon.
Just load each line with metaphor
   And passion’s hottest fire;
That’s what the reader’s better for
   And editors desire.

Resign yourself, as you await
   The moguls’ grand decision,
To finding lines you thought first-rate
   Were greeted with derision.
Don’t kick the cat, or foam and fret
   Your feelings to release
When you receive polite regret
   They can’t accept your piece.

Tough luck to tangle, so to speak,
   With back-evolving brains;
Next time, they may perceive the peak
   To which your verse attains.
If not, calm down and don't request
   An ombudsman’s decider;
Since they want better, send your best:
   Remember Bruce's spider.