The last time I wrote a poem was for a class in college. It was about a shark who ate people and it didn’t end well for my mental health. I still wake up at night worrying about the Malawi Terror Beast.
What I’m trying to say is, I don’t know anything about poetry. I can’t remember the rules for writing a sestina, I’m not sure what differentiates an ode from a ballad and I wouldn’t know iambic pentameter if it systematically chewed my face off, Malawi Terror Beast-style. I can identify a haiku and a limerick, but I don’t know what T.S. Eliot’s deal was and I can never tell if e.e. is cummings or goings.