Sonnet No. 36, or “That Guy Who Was at the Cocktail Party”

Sonnet No. 36, or “That Guy Who Was at the Cocktail Party”

There were some charming pieces I once wrote
And posted to a famous magazine.
And then one day arrived a little note.
It said my work was not the best they’d seen.

Now to be honest, that is not quite so:
I was rejected, though I don’t know how.
And that I was, somehow, I’m sure I know.
It bugs me now and then, but mostly now.

I write these twiddling trifles all the time-
Everyone ignores me, yes, I know.
It’s not just tedious of me to rhyme,
Iambic pentameter bores them so.

‘Twas good enough when Shakespeare wrote this way,
I know that he, too, suffered in his day.