Friday, January 18, 2013

Why I Married My Husband

I came out of writing group last night practically in tears. When I got home Tom woke up and asked me how it had gone. I said not so good.


"Well, some people read poetry. The people who read poems usually read 3 or 4, and they pass copies of the poems around right before they read. You're supposed to write your comments on your copies of the poems as they read them. When they've finished reading, everyone critiques the poems on the spot. I can hardly get through one poem. Then before the next person reads, you're supposed to turn your copies back in to the person who's just read so they can see your comments when they get home. So when it was time for me to pass my comments back, I'd look down at my copies and all I would see would be lines and squiggles where I had been pretending to write. So I hid my copies in my folder. It's hard for me to understand poetry."

"Don't you read your poems?"

"Yes, but my poems rhyme!" (sob).

"Next time, before you go, let me see what you're taking to read. I'll take all the rhymes out."

"Will you really? OK."

"And remember. No capital letters."

"You're right."

"And no punctuation, either."