The editor requested a brief bio
to go with a poem she wished to use,
so here's what was transmitted:

Rootless in the world of his rebirth,
an alien in the disunity of nations;

a stranger in the land where he was born,
marching even out of step in army bands;

a blot upon his province of adoption,
where guilty pigment ruled the Zulu impis;

an outsider in the city of his schooling,
as colonial masters taught Semitic status;

adrift in the borough of his being,
threaded with labyrinthine avenues;

a pariah in the street of his existence,
guarded by quasi-cops and snarling Nazi dogs;

but living within himself he's now at home,
a depressive not unhappy with his lot.

Wonder why she never used it?
And the poem too is still in limbo.

How breathtaking it is
how editorial prejudice,
like an arrogant doctor playing God,
can kill a contributor's identity!