From the verses of Shakespeare to the violence of Football, a soft hand on the nape of my neck to a rim's hard rattle after a dunk, the mute of Miles to the rhymes of Rakim, Hershey's chocolate to a garlic peppered, cedar-planked salmon, Joel Dias-Porter's thoughts scatter like grains of black sand across a wind-blown beach.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Surfing USA
OK, I'm now on Google Wave, if there are any other new adopters out there waving. Looking forward to exploring the possibilities, especially in terms of dealing with poetry and workshop/critique.
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