Gary Whitehead
While at BMC last summer, Henri Cole and Naoe and I would put the hens to bed. One day Henri gave me a photocopy of a glossary from a book about chickens. Touched, I wrote a poem for him called "A Glossary of Chickens," which I left tacked to the kitchen door. Paul Muldoon sent me an email this morning [Jan 21, 2010] accepting that poem for The New Yorker. Yay!