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.
This is the month where every poet gets their license renewed. I’ve been busy working on the book, but have still been writing my poem a day. Of course they are mostly haiku/senryu. I have been regularly posting them on FB, the Gram, and Twitter.