Something like the first three weeks of November got filled with the composition of a new book. The title is My Petite Gridiron, and it was produced "all of a piece" at the bidding of the muses (not a compilation of preexisting material like my last issued collection). The book is made up of 100 poems, each eight lines in length. If you scroll back to what I posted during the first three weeks of (this) November, you will find five representative samples; I'm not ready to update the main poetry page of this site so as to fix them more firmly in the firmament so to speak. This dovetails neatly in thematic and personal ways with aspects of my first collection, Embodiment & Release, which merely suggests that—if it is so that “the end of all our exploring/ Will be to arrive where we started/ And know the place for the first time”—then the net result may turn out to be something more pleasurable to its author than an enhanced reading experience for the reader.
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