So, this just happened...

The Cincinnati Review just arrived in the afternoon post, & I've got to say that I'm knocked over by it. Yes, yes, my [What happens is this: the body calls—though we don't] happens to be the first poem in the issue, but more importantly... gasp... a new poem by Nancy Eimers is there, & two by Carl Phillips, & & &... You probably want to pick up a copy, hm.