After the Dana Goodyear-Poetry Foundation fracas stirred the pot at perhaps the most prestigious and complacent poetry venue in the United States (and perhaps the world), something, again, is blowing in the wind near the offices of The New Yorker. Alice Quinn, poetry (and former fiction) editor of The New Yorker will end her reign, passing torch, baton, sceptre, and wand to the Irish poet Paul Muldoon, chair of creative writing at Princeton University and a Pulitzer Prize winner. Quinn presided over the magazine’s controversially uncontroversial slate of poems often referred to as “New Yorker poems,” which espoused less an aesthetic school than a cult of personality. Will this change matter to anyone? Perhaps not. Will The New Yorker publish more poetry and more poetry criticism? Perhaps not. Will anyone care more deeply about poetry now? Perhaps only those hoping to grace The New Yorker’s glossy pages. Stay tuned.