My man Jamison,

with whom I was nominated for a Pushcart Prize by LIT, has agreed to join the NaPoWriMo, but he will not be writing daily poems. His schedule will be determined by his guts as they manifest themselves chronologically in bodily movements. He eats a lot of Mexican food, so I am guessing that his production (poetically speaking) for the month of April will at least double that of we mere daily poets.