I missed Poetry on Your Blog Day and I don't care. I don't like poetry very much, if truth be told. Poetry sometimes makes me feel superficial, as if I'm just too stupid to get the point. Take the poem Sarcasmo posted, about the damn plums in the refrigerator. I have never been able to imagine why that poem is better than any other. Is there something I'm missing, or is that poem basically a wordier version what I might scrawl on a Post-It note? I'm not faulting anyone who likes the poem, but I just don't get it.
Ironically, while I was in college I experimented with writing poetry, and I actually enjoyed it, surprise surprise. Of course, most of what I wrote was jokey, like this:
I think that I shall never see a poem fair as my ID
You point me out when I am strange
A beacon true if I should range
And if, by chance, I car should squash these outer bones and inner mush
Your firmness then in plastic tones proclaims to whom this jelly owns
Oh photo ID! Oh photo ID!
Oh grasshopper and katydid!
May nature never craft by touch a credit card I love so much
I actually turned in that poem in a college course, and to my utter shock the instructor loved it. He went on and on about the meter and blah blah, and I'm thinking, "Umm, I was just making fun of poetry." See? I didn't get poetry then, and I don't get it now.
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