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That same unasked-for two-page cover letter:
She tells you that her muses are her cats.
She was a teacher, is retired now. That's
Why she has time to knit a monthly sweater
And write these poems. For Mankind seems a debtor
Compared to richer creatures. See the bats
In their fine cloaks! the acorns with their hats!
The glossy surcoat of an Irish Setter!

They're not as bad as last week's, but you know
To scuttle that encouraging reply:
Beneath the slot the slipped manila settles.
You try to keep ahead of it, but oh!
These hordes of sickly-sweet Orchidiae
Won't stop until they smother you with petals.