Michael Swanwick
Hooray for Eileen and her bully machine
That turns out such volumes of stuff!
Some think it queer
She’s so seldom here
Few find her absence enough.
She lives in this town
(At least, here’s where’s she’s foun
d); She is graced with a runcible style.
Some think that she should
Write what they wish they could
But she freezes them out with a smile.
Let’s all celebrate
Before it’s too late
And time’s wingéd chariot’s seen,
That queen of the text,
Seldom sour, never vexed,
Eileen! — and her bully machine.
Michael Swanwick
July 16, 1994
Seattle