Nattaproblem

A NOVEMBER ISLAND. A poem by Nattapon Jontom Abbett Off the plane, the colors hit like fresh crescent waves Walls adorned with the Spanish movers and shakers Creators of sound that spur to itchy rhythms. Maracas, bombas, templeque, arroz con dulce; indulgence. Stepping foot on the island for the first time Immediately imbibing the foundation…