Who do I have to bl -- er, KNOW to get the comments link to work? I am totally thinking of applying for editorial work at this place, even though moving to L.A. is pretty much out of the question. But that fits in nicely with my pretending-to-try-to-find-a-job M.O.

Going to Palm Springs tomorrow to visit Jack's mom, who is recovering from pneumonia. She got kind of choked up on the phone when he told her we were coming, so we're hoping that a dose of The Peanut will cure her completely.

Edward Dorn is a damned good poet. If you can find a copy of his "Gunslinger," buy it.


The cowboy stands beneath

a brick-orange moon. The top

of his oblong head is blue, the sheath

of his hips

is too.

In the dark brown night

your delicate cowboy stands quite still.

His plain hands are crossed.

His wrists are embossed white.

In the background night is a house,

has a blue chimney top,

Yi Yi, the cowboy's eyes

are blue. The top of the sky

is too.