The New Yorker Responds

THE NEW YORKER RESPONDS to Ryan Fitzpatrick's "Sparrow":
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Hi Ryan,
I wanted to apologize for sending you a blank email earlier. I was curious as to what these poems were written for, as we've received a number of them from different email addresses and (purportedly) different authors. You can reply to me (if you like) at mweigel@newyorker.com; I am would truly be interested to know.
Thanks,
Moira Weigel (Poetry Dept. Intern)
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NOTE: THE NEW YORKER SPARROW PROJECT CONTINUES! Send your "Sparrow" poem today, see below for details...

It's Almost Summer

It's almost summer. Mama Miao
is grooming the Reader.
A minute later,
she's done with the Reader.
So, Mama Miao wants her to
take his place.
Baba Miao backs off,
using this excuse:
The Effects Fat Has on Freezing Milk.
and then started throwing thawed-out bats,
at the Hela monsters growing in my thoughts

cobalt back home Halloween Penguin Summer
chillin' out in an oasis of Bad Bats...
REAL SOCIALIZING with Penguins
stuck in a hot spot but chillin'
That never happened. Just then,
I walk in and say that they've overheard
the cook telling Tai-Tai
that he has to cut off some
of The Reader's fur because it was messy.
She then asks The Reader what happened.
The Reader then tells them
and that The Reader's text
has sent The Reader
out to town to deliver a scroll
to an Adirondack Park
each the one saluting his wife
that he can groom himself.

Meanwhile, The reader delivers
the scroll to other Reader.
so the potter goes but not before stopping
to watch the other potter spin clay.
The reader feels itchy, and scratches herself.
Cat hair flutters up on the piano
Our renewal is an amusing sneezeland
Knocking on the still soft clay, splashing some
ontology on The Reader.

The reader continues home.
the cook sees The Reader in a combined
haven for the harried, providing zest, relaxation
tin ballast or just chillin out.
Comes with 2 basketballs,
2 volleyballs,
monkey-suit-brandishing
metal outsiders
and a bouquet of
delicious banality!

On the playground is where I
spent most of my days Chillin'
out maxin' relaxin the on the cobalt
Yosemite and Yellowstone fibers
Are the love seats above the napkins
where bats are playing video games?
where there are nightly shows
usually he *scoots regrets out
in gossamer robots
The Reader was kidnapped by bats,
and that those bats
ridiculed Fu-Fu, Fu-Fu gets mad and
calls on his clique. None of
these are the truth -- in an exciting manner.
The end.

2001... to be strapped to a gurney, and beaten
to death by the relatives of earthworms,
using whiffle ball bats.
Fly Fishing With Rod Smith
He’s British Yo, swearing to bring
those kidnappers some apple juice. The reader
decides that this has gone on long
enough, and admits that the Expedition
to the North Pole is dedicated Polly
wanna party/chill/swim/love
mannequin/ murkin fiesta
for Ralph Fiennes.
Bubble gum gets onto your hearses.

The reader goes out, and Dongwa and
Sheegwa asks The Reader why she
looked like that. Feeling ashamed,
The reader spins a story about being
kidnapped by the removes of clay
and cutting off the affected fur
(just like you admitted
to meeting a (Chinese) dragon.
On your family vacation
If you wish you
drops by.

In the Mainstream Aviary (1)

We've had a red-breasted nuthatch visiting
the feeders. I love hearing his soft "yank-
yank-yank" calls as he nips off suet, along
with the bushtit flock's gentle, twittering notes.

I have seen a White-Breasted Nuthatch almost
every day! ... I have never seen a Red
Breasted Nuthatch come back and recover
any of their stored seeds. It looks like

the tow rope is attached and they are waiting
for a nice high tide to yank it off, WHEE, WHEE, WHEE.
Bushtit. Bushtit (lisp) Bushtit Bushtit (tsit) Bushtit.
Violet-green Swallow, Mexican Jay, Bridled Titmouse,

Bushtit, Pygmy Nuthatch (low YANK or YAIR)
approximately one mile from the Hank and Yank homestead.

A Letter from One of Our Readers:

Ron Silliman writes:

Why do you have a photograph of a black-capped chickadee illustrating your sequence of Sparrow poems?

Dear Ron,

While you are quite correct that the bird photograph featured on Mainstream Poetry is not a sparrow, neither is it a black-capped chickadee. It is a white-breasted nuthatch. Kenn Kaufman, in his Birds of North America (Houghton Mifflin, 2000) notes that the white-breasted nuthatch is distinguished by its "All-white face and chest, set off by narrow black crown stripe" and "orange-brown lower belly," while the black-capped chickadee has a "black cap and bib, gray back, buff wash on sides." We hope this clears up any confusion.

Sincerely,

The Mainstream Poets