April is National Poetry Month, you say?
Man I love my creative poetry class. It is full of lols. "Excellent use of 'lick'. ... Horrible use of 'monkey'." Also, we scared away the DID girl who went catatonic anytime she heard the word "sex" >____> she abruptly left during a conversation about Fraggle Rock.
Student: Did you hear about the knife fight in the library?
Student 2: Yeah, they said it was between 'non-students' though.
Teacher: You know when they say 'non-students' they mean faculty.
I do not write poetry, but I had to write at least one for class, and they seemed to actually really like it. This is gratifying! I enjoy the workshop sessions, because I like to read poetry, and I also enjoyed getting feedback on the one poem I frowningly poked out. I am not crazy enough to be a poet. You need to have a special kind of drive for that. My crazy involves lying down in a nice quiet place, or buying retarded shit for my hamsters. I feel that risky poetry does not come from these sort of activities.
My favorite poems that I have heard so far from my classmates:
Student: Did you hear about the knife fight in the library?
Student 2: Yeah, they said it was between 'non-students' though.
Teacher: You know when they say 'non-students' they mean faculty.
I do not write poetry, but I had to write at least one for class, and they seemed to actually really like it. This is gratifying! I enjoy the workshop sessions, because I like to read poetry, and I also enjoyed getting feedback on the one poem I frowningly poked out. I am not crazy enough to be a poet. You need to have a special kind of drive for that. My crazy involves lying down in a nice quiet place, or buying retarded shit for my hamsters. I feel that risky poetry does not come from these sort of activities.
My favorite poems that I have heard so far from my classmates:
- "Pedgar", about how this girl's dog keeps eating her bloody panties (I am not making this up)
- "Ode to Romeo", from the POV of this crazy lady who has drowned over 600 cats and buried them all in her backyard (this is, sadly, trufax)
- "Bloody Gorgeous", about being complimented on one's massively skinned knee at a club
- And from today's exercise, which was to write the worst poem you could think of, the one that ended in "Satan, Satan, Satan"