And what rough draft, its opportunity come round at last,
Wooshes towards referee #2 to be trashed?

A mismatched manuscript with Times Roman body and Comic Sans footnotes
Is resting on an editor’s desk, while in emails
Real scholars indignantly refuse referee requests.
The cloak of jargon drops again; but now I know
That twenty years of sleep in a file cabinet
Were disturbed by a goofy CFP,

The assumptions lack all plausibility, while the conclusions
Are full of piffling immensity.
Surely some Rubicon is at hand;
Surely an Acceptance is at hand.
Acceptance! Hardly are those words out
When an imaginary travesty
Troubles my sight: in some respected journal’s office