Through six degrees of separation, I recently "met" this poet for hire out of San Francisco. Like a lovely magician of words tucked away on a ship called California, she awaits your purpose for poeming. You simply send her a few notes of your hearts desire, and for a small fee, she forms them into an arrangement, typed on real paper and sent to you (or your inspirer) via stamp and envelope like some anonymous clue tied to the foot of a coal-mining canary. On a whim, one inspired saturday evening, I took a little journey to The Poetry Store where I ordered my own bit of rhyme. I waited impatiently, checking the little box in the hallway each day, until there it was, post-stamped San Francisco, my own grouping of words on paper to consider, to marvel, to love. I will keep mine for the back pocket of my moleskin, but I share another of her poems with you here now. I feel the road-trip urge creeping in, so this one seemed timely.