Met a fella the other day, a poet of sorts, sez he's putting together a book. 'Oh?' sez I, 'Yeah, it's an anthology,' sez he, 'Oh?' sez I, a bit more 'nerested this time 'cause it sounds like there's some action in it that's still loose. 'Yeah,' sez he, 'it's gonna be both prose and poetry, shorter pieces mostly, and mostly directed towards Eastern themes.' 'Eastern?' sez I, 'cause when I say 'Eastern' I mean India and the like, but I've talked to people who, when they say 'Eastern' mean like New York, or Boston, or someplace like that. Maybe even Cleveland. 'Yeah,' sez he. 'You know, Hindu, Buddhist, that whole thing.' 'Oh,' sez I seizing opportunity by the balls, 'Are you looking for contributions?' And then I tell him about myself, and so he gives me his name and address, sez he's mucho 'nerested and will seriously consider whatever I send him. He's a published poet who's spent the past summer with the other published poets who seem to flock each summer to the Naropa thing in Boulder. He's doing the book with another dude, the name escapes me at the mo. So anyway, I tell him too that I got this friend up in B.C. who lives in a stump and does prose poetry of a very unique nature but with an Eastern angle and mebbe he'd like a look at what my friend is doing too? And he sez, 'Why, sure thing. Just tell him to send three or four things, don't let any individual piece get much over 1000 words. Tell him that if I have to edit anything I'll send him an edited copy for approval. Then he writes down his name and address. We talk some more, and then before leaving he sez, 'Oh yeah, tell your friend to include a note so I'll know who he is and all that,' And he splits. About five minutes later I'm telling all this to someone else, and he asks me, 'Does he pay?' and gol'durn it to tarnation, I knew all along that there was an important question I wanted to ask him, but I couldn't remember in time what it was. Don't that beat all?