I've read some Franz Wright poems. He's not bad, given that the Pulitzer has to go to someone of that ilk. "My name is Franz and I'm a recovering asshole." (That's an actual quote, and quite funny.) He's had to deal with being James Wright's son. That's a lot of baggage.

They're not going to give it to Barbara Guest or Clark Coolidge; that's just a given. I'll have to check; I think the last P-Prize I approved of whole-heartedly was James Schuyler.