I’m on a bit of a poetry kick. At least I think I am.

I mostly avoided studying poetry because it scared me. Two English degrees and somehow I managed only to take one dedicated poetry class (plus Beowulf and Chaucer, which also count as poetry, but Medieval verse is a different animal from, say, Yeats or TS Eliot). In tenth grade, when tasked with writing about a poem, I chose the lyrics to a rock song I liked and argued that song lyrics are poetry. My teacher was visibly annoyed by my switcheroo, but she let it go without downgrading me too badly.

But, for some reason, I’ve written two poems in the past two weeks. I think. One I’m not sure qualifies, but it is a true memory. The other is a fun little experiment in abecedarian poetry (where each line starts with a letter of the alphabet in succession from A to Z).

And here they are, in link form:

“Cold Pain, Warm Soup”

“Waiting for the Sting”

Happy reading!