My First Novel

wrote my first novel
before I had pubic hair
(I was 12).
hand-written,
loose-leaf, yellow
paper, mangled
corners, 20 pages long.
mailed it to New York,
DEL REY PUBLISHING 
(I think they published
‘The Sword of Shannara’).
the main guy,
in my story,
the hero,
was brave
and clever.
a bear attacked him.
didn’t panic, though.
just threw a banana
into a nearby bush,
which intrigued the bear,
who contracted his terrible
roar, ambled to the bush,
as the hero dashed
away.
that’s about all
that I recall.
I wrote the story
up north
at grandpa’s cabin.
I’d walk these long
dirt roads,
alone,
surrounded by miles
of old forest
and I’d wonder
“what’s out there?’
probably lots of stuff.
probably nothing much.
there really were bears
out there — 
never saw one
myself — 
I did get friendly
with some deer though.
anyways, DEL REY,
they wrote me back.
“Thanks for your 
submission.
blah-blah-blah.
we encourage you
in your writing
effort
but regret
we are not 
considering
material 
of this type
at this time.”
the jerks
didn’t return
my novel
(it was my only copy).
I just hope 
someone read it.
It was good.