Dear Etheridge Knight,
I scat your way to thank you for joining two of my loves: poetry and jazz. You were right when you wrote that writing blues songs “is to regiment riots / and pluck gems from graves.” A hearty task executed so well, I had to call my jazz friends and tell them that poetry is officially a swingin’ cool cat.
There is something special about reading haikus on piano men and jazz swings after being immersed in creative writing and improvised scats. Because of you, I will attempt to write my love for jazz in seventeen syllables too.