Ms. Janet Wilmoth
Fire Chief Magazine
330 N. Wabash Ave., Ste. 2300
Chicago, IL 60611
Dear Ms. Wilmoth:
Despite my nonexistent work ethic, questionable grooming habits and deep antipathy to the outside world, my parents have decided that I'm fit for a job.
I've done my best to counsel them against such a rash decision; after all, I'm only 31 years old. Sadly, logic has fallen on deaf ears and so, on threat of losing my beloved digital cable, I've embarked on a career in poetry.
While many might start with The Paris Review or The New Yorker, I've decided it's more realistic to earn my stripes in lesser organs. And so I am submitting the following poem, Fire Chief, for publication.
Let me tell ya a story about this man,
This man ain't got no beef,
Unless you ever, ever! try and burn down a building,
Then you gunna meet the fire chief.
I will accept no less than $2.50 per word and will NOT tolerate changes to the manuscript. Please let me know if you will be publishing my poem. If not, an explanation regarding your decision will appease my parents more than you can possibly imagine.
I look forward to hearing from you.
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