An apology to my self-respect

I must confess that I have f**ked up on a colossal scale. Last year I submitted a few poems to Forward Press, publishers of the terrible 'Poetry Now' magazine. One of them, 'Summer Breeze' was selected for publication in the anthology 'Summer Remembered'. When I read the script for approval, I noticed they exchanged my made-up word 'moohmellow' for 'moodmellow'. I duly changed it back, with a note explaining that this was deliberate. A couple of months passed, and when the book arrived, I was disappointed to find that they did not reinstate my word. I was seriously pissed, but left it that, swearing never to submit to them again.

A few months ago, another editor from Forward Press contacted me to inform me that 'Nubian' had been accepted for the anthology 'Mixed Emotions' - it was one of the poems from the original batch I submitted in 2004. This was at a time when I had been distracted from my writing by the day job, so despite misgivings, I agreed to have it published.

Well...the book arrived last week, and thankfully the poem was published in its pure form, being a personal one. Unfortunately, the book sucks the sweat off a dead mans balls. I would say that the majority of poems are awful, but I am not sure they qualify to be poems. It's by far the worst anthology I have seen in my life. Shopping lists, rants, poems-so-obvious-they-are-virtually-hitting-you-on-the-head, and twee lyrics that only serve to elicit bowel movements from the criminally constipated. A reading of random poems on the Piccadilly Line to 'iPod Perv' and the other passengers confirmed this, as did my lunch & cinema companion yesterday, who took me to see the Palestinian film 'Private' - thanks matey, it's a grand movie.

Of course, there's probably someone who purchased the book who feels that way about my poem. But I believe artistic license gives me the ability to stick my C*^k in their ear and f*&k some sense into their head. Or maybe not (especially if they are wearing a helmet).

I prostrate myself in shame, apologise to my self-respect and swear never - EVER - again, to blot my copybook with those 'special' folk. For the person I know who has also had dealings with Forward Press - you can do much, much better. Resist submitting your best work there, and save it for a more worthy publication.

Make Fearless sit on a fountain pen and swivel in shame.