A recent message we received doubted whether we ever actually reject submissions. We provide this compilation to prove that indeed we do not accept everything sent to the site. If you notice that one of the letters below was originally sent to you, that's good, it means you have swallowed your pride and returned. If not, if you have never seen one of these letters, please submit - maybe you too will receive your very own personalized rejection.
Thanks for thinking this piece might be right for Eyeshot. Unfortunately, we're really hesitant to touch anything involving Lucifer, the Prince of Darkness. We are hesitant for obvious reasons mostly involving eternal
damnation, not only in the afterlife but in this one as well, particularly in terms of literary values and shit like that. Now, I'm a fan of a good devil story if the devil is, say, one's parrot, or one's car key, and it's trying to compel you to either make it repeat the word "horseshoe" or run it along your friend's already beaten-up, rundown, rustworn hyundai . . . got me?

Ultimately, Devil's Dung is not something we're interested in right now, and probably never will be until it's a Ben & Jerry's flavor.

Eyeshot's Splattered Dog Dessert


Apologies for the delayed response. We're usually very quick. In a submission-response race with five other related sites, we won by 21 days, responding in 16 seconds. Swear to G-d.
Twenty seconds after you submitted I read the first bit, then got distracted. I came back to it again, then again, then again, then again, then again, and then finally with a fresh head, and alas, there's a reason I kept coming back to it: I couldn't really get into it. Sorry. 
It's sort of a travelogue trip thing, which is fine, if it involves a relatively unknown country, unlike France. It's cool to write about restoring French Castles, but only if you mention Aleister Crowley, who is English. 
Beware of beckoning vineyards and walking forlornly.
The submission's not really fiction, right? - and so it seems like the time there was reward enough. Putting the piece up wouldn't be right. Sorry. I know you see more in what you've sent than I do, and that's very cool, since the lines are filled with other things you didn't or just couldn't mention. And even if you got all those things down in print, I'm not sure it would be right. 
Eyeshot's Droopy Dragnet of Buttery French Chicks


Thank you for thinking your submission would look good on Eyeshot. Sorry. I wish it would.

I could tell you what would make it better, for us, from our perspective. I could tell you, but I won't. You teach writing already - you should know . . . Be a good teacher.

I will tell you, just a little, employing the magic of metonomy -- when referring to the chocolate-covered candy, M&M is the preferred spelling.

Also, here's why in your own words.

Basically, "we're not happy with things not being of a certain profoundness" . .  .

And our new motto? . . . "Confound the new French feminists!"

Fall in love "with our discourse, with our theoretical perspectives, whatever makes the attraction work," then go write new stuff.

This will "not be the only opportunity you will ever have." 

You are well wished.

Eyeshot's In Favor of Changing the Word for "Setting Sun" to Something Simpler, like "20" 


Hi. Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I just had a look. I liked how it started. But then couldn't keep track of it. A few lines threw me off. [Examples of lines withheld.] Now, I'm neither daft nor an elaborate fuckwit, despite being an American, nor am I particularly hungover, and in general I like these kind of long, some would say overambitious, semi-impressionistic sentences. You can see them all over the things on Eyeshot. I'm more interested in reading, writing, and posting stuff that focuses more sentence-to-sentence than on an organized, polished, well-plotted, dull-as-fuck whole. The thing though, for the web particularly, I think there needs to be a little more energy and humor in the voice to maintain the line-to-line momentum. It's essentially a rambling story. And rambling stories need more than just breath to sustain to the end, especially over seven pages. 
Go England! Kill the Krauts!
Eyeshot's Flophouse for American Football Enthusiasts


                                a  l   t

                        h   o   

      u   g   h      
managed to spell
                    concieved" . . . 
c o r r e c t  l y 
       f o r
please note: back-to-back spelling errors are not sufficient grounds for denial: just my sugar levels were low, and i'd have to be out-of-mind wacked on a 12-pack of cola to really want to post what you sent. unfortunately i am not wacked on lots of cola; thus, will not post your submission. do not let this affect your day. if you live on the east coast of america it is beautiful today, if a little windy. a good day to lay around and ejaculate into a latex sack coated with spermicidal lubricant. --- tell me truthfully: did you labor 9 months on the submitted poem? don't lie. are you really its momma then? not that you need to take 9 months on a short poem for a pathetically undertrafficked literary-like website, but, but, but: thank you for liking what you saw on the site and submitting (to allah). what we mean is: thank you for playing.
g a m e   o v e r
please try again. 
insert coin(s)
9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1  0
Alcalde; El Barrio del Ojos Tirados 
(mayor; the ghetto of thrown eyes)


George "the Animal" Steele can put his fatass head in a blender and send me the salsa. I'm having a party this weekend and need something gelatinous to feed and fatten the marsupials before the slaughter. Puree of opposum imported from papua new guinea, stuffed with a george "the animal" steele and white-bean cilantro garnish: scrumptious, motherfucker - totalmente

What scatological pungency as pungently foul and as twist of tongue smells so much of long labor's sweat? Frankly, this reeks of Fliegen, tho thy electronic direction indicateth another.

Y si tu quieres recibir el spam, well, tu haf 2 input tu address electronica: you'll get it. you'll get it real soon, mister drowsy-chimpansy-swingin'-from-a-cock-n-ball trapeze.

Three weeks is a long time. A long time to have your face held flush against the shit-crusted porcelain of all eternal's watery vortex.

ps . . . ffffacht off.

Eyeshot's Complex of Thin-Skinned Tears


Hi. You're pretty young, huh? 15?

I wrote a pretty nasty message below, but now feel bad because you're almost half my age.

I searched for your email address on google and found out all about you. 

Anyway, the thing you sent doesn't work. You can't write the way you wrote about the WTC thing, unless you really pull it off like the Onion did in late September . . . If you want me to go into more, I will.

Here's what I would have sent you if you were acually an adult NYC freelance writer . . .

In the future, we suggest you don't use the following words:

personal (to describe an essay)
besotted (to describe a day)
tragicomic (to describe a f*cking disaster)
denizens (especically not modified by overwrought)

We'll accept your friend's blessed trinity of rude, crude, removed - its close to what we're after - but "Poor Man's McSweeney's"? Such statements in your intro are counterindicated, and Eyeshot's layout is based on and

You brought blood to my brain, Ms. {Name Withheld}

Meet me at 9 for a duel of chicken bones and hot sauce, somewhere near the L -- at the KFC on 14th and 2nd.

I will show you rude and crude. I will teach you the meaning of removed. I will show you what happens when eager talent is misdirected.

Anyway, thank you for submitting, and glad you like the site, but the piece does not meet our poor man's standards. Best wishes for finding a home for
your Flapping Eagle personal essay.

Eyeshot's Cracked Skull of Wheezing Fire

so . . . good luck.

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A Totally Revised Version Of
Is Available Now, Although The Author Wouldn't Say Totally Revised As Most Readers Won't Be Able To Tell The Difference Without Both Texts In Front of Them, And Also, The Author Believes That This Annoucement Reveals His Obsessiveness In A Way That Makes Him Feel Like A Compulsive, Neurotic, Self-Important Loser Who Doesn't Have Any Friends, Which Basically Is True, But He Doesn't Want To Encourage People To Realize This If They Haven't Already Guessed It, & He's Only Consented To This Long Announcement Because It Was The Eyeshot Editor's Idea, Who Insisted, Thinking It'd Be Worthwhile, & Now That It's Here, The Author Just Doesn't Know What To Think About Anything Anymore, But He's Willing To Be Optimistic, Though He's Currently Hugging Himself In A Theoretical Straightjacket
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An Unauthorized Compilation of Keyword
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Satirists Suck!
B. Rooney Leshe