For several years now I have been trying to get some corrections into <em>The Book of Forms</em> with little luck. Now the fifth printing of the Third Edition has been published and, though a few of those corrections have been implemented, unfortunately, not all of them appear in the book. Therefore, I am taking the opportunity to post the remaining uncorrected information on my blog so that owners of the book can make the corrections by hand: pp. 73-89, add to chapter glossary: COMPUTER POETRY. See interactive poetry. INTERACTIVE POETRY. Poems produced on and for computers having alternative elements which in effect allow “readers” to invent their own “virtual” poetry within the boundaries of the computer program in use. Also called computer poetry and virtual poetry. POETICULE. An insignificant or exceedingly minor poet, such as Scotland’s “most famous nobody,” William Topaz McGonagall (1830-1902). For a related term, see <em>poetaster</em>. VIRTUAL POETRY. See <em>interactive poetry</em>. p. 127. Line 8. should end in an e, not a c. p. 164, in the diagram of the “Cyhydedd Hir” entry, change the rhymes of the second stanza to conform to the description: 9. xxxxd 10. xxxxd 11. xxxxd 12. xxxB 13. xxxxe 14. xxxxe 15. xxxxe 16. xxxB p. 179, Substitute this version of lines 4 & 5 of “A Talisman” for those in the book: standing defending his great tau shall be laid under earth, old as he is — by Oriphiel, angel of Saturday. Our Lord, and substitute this version of line 8: Grave on the opposite face this, in a hexagon star: This is the correct version of the poem which now scans correctly: A TALISMAN Elegiacs for Dave McLean, too late. Lead for this talisman. Pure, so that Saturn will live in it. Pure lead. Both of its faces are rubbed smooth. On its front, in a star pentagram, cut with a diamond burin a scythe so that Nabam, standing defending his great tau shall be laid under earth, old as he is — by Oriphiel, angel of Saturday. Our Lord, nailed to a T, is the capstone of this coin made of lead, though he will never appear in his person, but only as backdrop. Grave on the opposite face this, in a hexagon star: REMPHA, surrounding the head of a bull. Without witnesses carve your talisman. Wear it in good health. It will keep you from death, frighten the devil of cancer, leukemia — rot of the white bone. Marrow will redden then. Wear this! It will save you and me. Bear it — your talisman; wear it, my brother. Or carry this poem, <em>Dies Saturni</em>, to life’s end. It is all I can do. p. 183, after “epilog,” add, EPILENY, a drinking song. p . 247, after “…with a cutting edge,” change the comma to a colon and insert, WEDDING CERTIFICATE Under an oak, in stormy weather, I joined this rogue and whore together; And none but Him who rules the thunder May put this rogue and whore asunder. — Jonathan Swift [Also add the author and title to the index.] p. 248, in order to compensate for the above, drop “Karl Jung”; after “This Morning Tom Child, the Painter, Died,” add: Generally the literary epitaph begins with the name of the “deceased” as above, but a set form ⎯ an iambic tetrameter quatrain rhyming aabb ⎯ saves the name until the end of the last line. p. 251, NOTA BENE, in the entry for the SESTINA: Delete “The order of the repetition of the end words is…” through “(line 39).” Not only is this erroneous, it covers what follows on the next page. Index, p. 316, add p. 197 to the entry for “choka.” Index, p. 324, add entry on “Incremental refrain, p. 127.” Index, p. 327, add entry on “Modes of Writing, p. 4.”