Emily Vents Poem by Sonny Rainshine

You're so run-of-the-mill,
Your art lacks
originality, lacks
authenticity. You're a hack, a jack-
of-all trades; master of the prosaic.

Why do you have to be so
lah-di-dah? so whoop-di-do,
so cliche, so 18th century,
for chrissake!

I'll bet you still read Milton.
Aren't you done with Donne
yet? What did you do with the Leaves of Grass
I sent you? The shipping cost me
a bundle.

Do not expect further criticism
or correspondence from me;
I have flies and corpses to address
and Whitman and I can't be bothered
with mediocrity.

Regards,
Emily Dickinson