Rogers. Nelson? Symbolman.

My Real One player, set on "shuffle play" has played about forty-seven Prince songs in a row. Something is wrong here.

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A lot of fuss is being made over Foetry the past couple of days. Interesting enough. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I'm compelled to say a couple of things:

1) If you send poems to Canary, you run a great risk of having them rejected, even if we like you.
2) If we don't like you but we like your poems, we still may publish them.
3) We probably won't publish poems that take place in kitchens, despite my obvious fixation on all things gustatory and culinary.
4) If Canary River Press ever starts publishing books, the editors are simply going to publish each other and write our own blurbs, all the while accepting donations and "entry fees," of course.

I'm sorta kidding. Maybe. I promise, though, that Jorie Graham will not judge any of the contests. I think I'll judge them all, except when I've entered the contest. Then I'll have Nick or Josh judge.

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I'm accepting names for my as-yet-mostly-unwritten manuscript. If you send one and I like it, I'll use it and send you something: probably a bath product.