I am the first to admit that as an appreciator of art, I am bone lazy. I like my paintings and sculptures pretty, my music melodic, my novels to have plots and sympathetic characters, and my poetry to rhyme. Yeah, … Continue reading
In college, I took a class on writing poetry—I needed another creative writing course to graduate, and this was the only one I didn’t have credit for already that was offered that semester—and it only served as confirmation about something … Continue reading
I envy poets. I don’t “get” poetry, and honestly — I don’t go out of my way to read it. It doesn’t resonate with me as a reader, and I absolutely cannot wrap my mind around it as a writer. … Continue reading
Ooooooooh, poetry. Yeah. Sigh. … Continue reading
When I was about seven or eight, I fell in love with poetry. I don’t quite remember how it happened, but one day I started begging my parents for books of poetry in much the same way that other girls … Continue reading