A beta answers

[ljwrites]

My friend chordatesrock put up a poem singing the praises of beta-readers, including yours truly, so it occurred to me to write an answering poem. It's not in trochaic octowhatchamacallit as I have no idea what that even is and am too lazy to use it, but it's still in some form of verse so it must count, right? Happy holidays, everyone!

The Beta-Reader

They come, these friends and strangers both
For what service I may offer
Mine's a sharpened blade, they hear
Or else they guess, or else they need
Anyone to wield discern
On the tangles that they proffer.

I browse with cool indifference
Through the brambles spun from ether
Imperfect all, roughest inference
Of the dreams that led them hither.

I lift the blade--this plot goes nowhere
The syntax wrong, look at these bits
The structure here's unseemly--there!
It works, just kill your favorites.

And through it all, stomping, swinging
Through fragile weaving done in love
Through feelings pricked and tempers flying
I marvel, always, at the mettle
Of those who come before the knife;
For truly it is flesh itself
That they lay before the blade.

So constantly I tell myself:
Tread softly, as the poet's sung
For 'tis upon their dreams I tread;
Yet cruelty can be hard to shelf
When my victims make it so much fun
And such joy I take from what they dread!