Acknowledgments in books are a genre unto itself, with sub-genres like the academic-book kind, the poetry-boo kind, even the textbook kind. Some are a bit grudging, as if the author hates thanking anybody. Some are expansive, even excessive--the author as darned excited. You can bet that the spouse and the agent (if the author has either or both) get thanked.
Anyway, I decided to play around with this in a poem.
First, I must express my gratitude
to Ladislaw Kruplizard for allowing me
to borrow his twenty-volume treatise
on Viking axes. Elliot Logbottom, Ezra
Liverdust, Diana Glutenate, and Myron
Timitomi all glanced at drafts of the manuscript
and rolled their eyes. I thank them, and I have
a long memory. Mao Lee Williams, Fidel
Du Pont, and Tami Bumble let me camp
in their backyards and fight raccoons
for garbage. No, really; thanks. To
the janitor at the Newton Figg Libary of
Fascinating Items, my thanks for letting
me in the back way, and mum's the word.
Finally, there are no words to express
adequate gratitude to my former wife,
Lady Esther Feastfoot, whose lawyers
destroyed my lawyers, thereby leaving
me with little to do but write this book.
Esther, the libel laws are on my side.