When I asked Robert Wynne to join me as co-editor of a new poetry anthology, his immediate response was When do we start? Only
My clothes are done. But I put another dime in the machine just to watch the Speed Queen take them for a roll. And
We pull it on each morning like long underwear. Soaked in it, our Rice Krispies snap, crackle, and cry Woe! It drives the plot
as he removes the otoscope. It’s not just the hammer, anvil, and stirrup, he says. It’s the blacksmith, too. And the dry goods store