Rejection slips: edited highlights * Dear Simon, Thanks very much for your submission. Unfortunately, I don�t think it�s quite �right� for our publication. We�re as open to the �avant garde� as anyone else, but a Giro slip & a cheque for �49.50 made out to British Gas is perhaps taking innovative poetics a little too far! Yours truly, The Editors * Dear Simon, I am extremely happy you have chosen to send me your work, & I very much enjoyed reading it.  However, I am sorry to say that our publication is in fact a figment of your imagination, & the editor, though diligent, is a deranged cat.  Sincere apologies if you feel that we have misled you in any way. Yours, A Deranged Cat * Dear Sir, We are grateful for the submission of your sonnet sequence Autumn Pockets.  There is much in these poems to recommend them, & I came close to including three of them in our next issue, but on reflection I felt that their casual & vituperative blasphemy, as well as the repeated references to archaic forms of sexual deviance, would not be looked upon at all kindly by our regular readership, which is composed entirely of members of the Poetry Society & the recently bereaved.  We wish you all the best in your career. Yours etc, The Editors * Dear Simon, Sorry to trouble you, but I wondered if you could clarify something for us. The third poem in the last batch you sent consisted of the word 'quench' repeated 377 times.  Neither myself nor the other twelve members of the Poetry Committee could decide whether this was a typographical error or a 'postmodernist' literary conceit.  Perhaps you could enlighten us? I look forward to hearing from you soon.  Best wishes, The Editor * Dear Sir, Please refrain from sending work to this publication. Firstly, we do not specialise in poetry; secondly, you never include the correct postage; & finally, at least one of your poems has slept with my wife. I would be most appreciative if this did not happen a second time.  In anticipation of your co-operation, The Editor, Bottletop Collector's Monthly * Dear Citizen, Your letter was appreciated; I read & reply to every one myself. I�m sorry to say that I can�t let you know the secret whereabouts of my Fortress of Solitude, lest it fall into nefarious clutches. As for your second question: yes I have, but only the once. I trust these answers satisfy your curiosity.  Now I must go to continue my fight for truth, justice, & the American way. Yours sincerely, Clark Kent, Superman * Dear Simon, I am writing in reference to the manuscript for your second collection, Love in the Boneyard, which our office received on June 8th of this year. We regret to inform you that we will not be able to publish this manuscript. There are a number of reasons for this, which are outlined below. Firstly, I must take issue with the almost total absence of the lyric 'I' from your work.  Was this a deliberate choice?  In addition to this, I wanted to express my concern at the almost obsessive recurrence of helicopters & toads, which blights the collection in its second half. I have since been dreaming helicopters & toads on a nightly basis. Yours faithfully, The Editor PS: I have enclosed a leaflet outlining the most popular & effective ways to express your thoughts & desires in a poem through the use of 'Simile', 'Imagery' & the adoption of a 'Voice'.  Do you ever 'workshop' at all? * Dear Simon, I am writing to inform you of a change in my material circumstances: the printed page, alas, is no longer commensurate to my needs, & I have therefore been forced to expand my operations beyond its confines. These days I am far more likely to take the form of the moon in daylight, smudged on the blue like the ghost of a fingerprint; or the music made by hammered metal & breaking glass in a wrecker�s yard beside the canal, than that of the ode or the sonnet or the villanelle.  Please understand that this is nothing personal, simply a recognition of the inherent limitations of the language we�ve been given, & I would be glad to give you the number of a colleague of mine who comes highly recommended, & who specialises in melancholy epiphanies at sunset.  I wish you every success in all you do. Yours sincerely, The Poem * Dear Mr Turner, Subsequent to your last communication, a baffling yet charming missive concerning a moth sunning itself on your front door on a brisk day in March, we must remind you of your outstanding debt of £49.50.  As your last bill was a final demand, we must stress that if we do not hear back from you within the next four days, we will be forced to take further action. Yours, British Gas