Dear poet,

We're having another manuscript competition. We hope you'll submit yours. Also, we hope you'll send us a check or money order or an open credit line. While you're at it, please tell every other poet you know about our competition. We hope the thought of all the other poets submitting doesn't make you want to slit your wrists, because we're kind of hoping you'll keep submitting your manuscript forever. You never know--this year, or the next, or the next, or the next, might be your year.

Don't be bitter, dear poet. You, your manuscript, and your open credit line are important to us! If you weren't around, there would be no reason for our existence! Chin up, dear poet. You are our raison d'etre.

In a side note, dear poet, we notice you haven't been writing much lately. Why is that? We realize we're veering away from our mission here, and that's a little risky, but we're a little worried about you. We know about those two word notes you make to yourself while you're in meetings, notes that you hope will turn into poems. But dear, dear poet: surely you can face the fact that if you don't at least spin those notes into sentences, they will be as dust. They will not become poems.

Well, dear poet, we hope you've noted the deadlines and the requirements for our manuscript competition. We hope--really hope--you'll start writing more. And we hope to see your manuscript soon. We're thinking about a secondary business, making bricks comprised of pressed manuscripts. We intend to sell them at an affordable price to community housing activists. We feel pretty good about this project. Think of it, dear poet! Think of how much good your manuscript will do in the world!

Sincerely yours,

The Press

My Olympics.

I've not watched a speck of the Olympics this year, until today, when we watched

• synchronized swimming, and
• some track and field events.

Synchronized swimming: no offense to any synchronized swimmers among my readership, but what the hell? It's kind of beautiful but also, well, absurd. Right? Am I wrong about this? On the one hand, each person is a terrific athlete, strong as hell, and can hold her breath for agonizing lengths of time. On the other hand, swimming in full makeup? with all that mess in the hair? And all the smiling? Well, there you go. Whatever that is, it's not a sport. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

We just barely watched Nancy Lagat from Kenya win the 1500 meters race, which I happen to think is one of the most agonizing track events, because you basically sprint for the whole distance. Ms. Lagat had a fantastic kick at the end, though, that put her well out of reach of the Bahrain runner, the heavy favorite. It was awesome to see. Even for a person who cannot be bothered to watch a second of the Olympics, until today.