April is National Poetry Month. What that means is that a whole shitload of folks are going to be trying their hands at poetry for the next 20 days. That is a fantastic thing because 2% of them are going to make great art and discover a talent they didn’t know they had and their lives will turn into a frenzy of rainbows because of it. Like this:
And for that reason I will not, I swear, complain about the other 98% who are going to attempt 1) rhyme, 2) paragraphs cut up into three to seven word chunks per line, and 3) stabs at profundity.
I will not complain! I will not! Much.
Instead, I will try to be a bigger person and simply point to the poets who have shown me the way. Like the poem by Eliza Waters:
color was how
sprang to life
to which I responded: “I love your poetry. You cut away everything that isn’t poetry and leave us with just the explosion of meaning. Thank you for that. We need you now more than ever in National Poetry Month, when a whole lot of people will be using all the other words you cut away and calling it ‘poem.'”