I don’t usually read advice on the internet. I did today, about poems.
Don’t write poems on Saturday.
Or Sunday either. Don’t write poems
about relatives, any relatives. People
aren’t interested. Grandchildren especially
but aunts and uncles the same.
Don’t write poems before 11 o’clock in the morning.
Don’t write poems that take place in Alabama.
Don’t write poems about fires or floods.
Don’t write poems using words that are difficult
to pronounce or that readers have to google
likes spuddle, a fantastic 17th century term
meaning being busy and ineffectual.
Don’t write poems with the word
utilize. There isn’t a single person on earth
who likes that word. Don’t write poems if you have
no idea what you’re doing. And don’t
write poems if you have a vague sense of what a poem
actually is, but you want to do it anyway.
You probably shouldn’t write poems.
I have decided to throw all my poems in the trash. They were written on a Saturday before 11a and were about my brother in Birmingham, AL. I feel so much better. Relieved, actually. Thank you.
pure fun