As Bory included my own work in an anthology he compiled, Once Again (1968), we began to correspond. I have since then always treasured his letters, which are written in an idiosyncratic pastiche of French and English. Though Bory's syntax is as scrambled as his vocabulary, the meaning behind his words is always clear. (Another Parisian visual poet, by contrast, writes me in grammatically proper English sentences, whose meaning I cannot for the life of me comprehend.)

I don't remember any other bookseller, upon meeting me for the first time, immediately identifying a book of mine on his or her shelves. This was well over 25 years ago. Do that thousands of times graciously, as I'm sure she has, and you'll succeed at the otherwise impossible challenge of SELLING poetry for a lifetime, as I gather she has, yes. Kiddies, take note.