Here there be poems.
- Lies My High School Poetry Teacher Told Me
- Boy
- How It Begins
- Keeping Roses
- First Orgasm
- Something She Has No Words For
Ugh. Poems.
Only poets read poets. Everyone else could care less. Other poets hate it when I say that, but it doesn’t make it less true.
However, the internet made it so much easier to connect to other poets. I love how the internet revived poetry from dusty coffee shop readings and lit mags to poets being able to share work with each other. Those poems that would have been relegated to some journal by the night stand have found their way to blogs and online poetry sites.
Poetry comes in all differents sorts of shapes and scars. I like all types, but prefer the poems that are a bit crooked and not so shiny.
I don’t like the whiny ones. Everyone already knows life is bad, but how is it specifically bad for you. Rhyme and rhythm are cheap suits. Use alliteration or go Prada with metaphor.
As for my poetry, I don’t do pretty.
- Lies My High School Poetry Teacher Told Me
- Boy
- How It Begins
- Keeping Roses
- First Orgasm
- Something She Has No Words For
