We should be giddy, right? Is there an entire month dedicated to screenwriting or copy writing or journalism? Do carpenters get a month? Do the cable guys get a month? Do roofers or hockey players or principals or printers?
NO! Poets get an entire month.
I have a secret.
Every month is poetry month. Poets never stop. We think in verse. We connect the unusual, distort the familiar, silently applaud the explosions of weird word fusions and pairings, then shake ’em and bake ’em ’til they roll over and offer us their underbellies.
Then we wake and do it all over again. It’s not possible to turn off the faucet. We are wired this way. When the well runs dry, we seek out beauty in art, music, nature, other writers. Even a trickle of inspiration, gives us the shivers. We court rhymes and rhythms and metaphors. Sometimes we woo them ’til the cows come home. It’s delightfully fulfilling. Maybe even a little too analogous of one of the seven deadly sins-poetry gluttony.
Spouses and sweethearts beware.
While the crocus’ sneaks through the early Spring soil, our jaws are locked shut. We savor the silence as we ponder new poems and forms. Don’t take it personally, but we do not want to talk to you. At least not about the trivial. Someone should create a bumper sticker: “Please be patient with your poet during the month of April.”
Our minds are on overdrive.
If your partner is having trouble accepting your indulgence, try some reverse psychology. Make them think it’s for them. I
suggest implore each of you poets to read this line out loud to your LO:
“April is a great month for you to find a hobby.”
Suggest that they take up whittling or grilling or quilting or star-gazing. Buy them a really long book if they like reading. (It took me three months to read War and Peace. But, that’s when I had a newborn.)
As I write this, my husband is making squeaking noises into his palm to get my attention. Never fear. I did not turn my head. Not once. He aughta know better by now.
After all, this isn’t my first poetic rodeo.
All poets are busy this month. If your significant other doesn’t get it, give them some hand-made coupons as a gift. (Psychology tricks, remember?)
Here are a few suggestions:
Hand write a coupon giving them permission to learn something new. Maybe they just need some motivation or permission, depending on their personality.
Give them a coupon allowing them to take an entire week to watch every episode of The Americans.
Grant them one whole nag-free week to go on a fishing trip or a hunting trip or a shopping trip.
Give them the power to take two weeks to clean out the garage and basement without your intervention.
Tell them if they behave, you’ll take them to Dairy Queen. (It always worked when my kids were little.)
Get creative. Write them a poem. Make it rhyme. (really rhymy-rhymy.) And make it personal by adding their name to it and rhyming it. If you have good handwriting, make them a card. Seal it with a kiss. Or flower stickers or chewing gum.
If you play an instrument, sing your poem to them. They’ll tear up.
Now my husband is banging his hand on the arm of the couch. (Not looking.)