We’re 10 days into National Poetry Month and I’ve not made one mention of it. That’s a damn shame!
I never paid much attention to poets as I’ve alluded to before. Then, Mark was killed and I wanted to know more about why he was attracted to poetry and certain kinds of poets.
Someone wrote me that he thought poetry was “a thing” and maybe I should glom onto that. He didn’t think much of my “diary of grief” style.
I’m not a poet and never will be.
Did you know Herman Melville wrote more poetry than fiction? I didn’t until this afternoon when, after spending most of the day on my writing-for-hire, I employed my speed-reading prowess I first learned back in the day at LHS, from Mr. Barton. I managed to tear through three books on Melville, Ambrose Bierce, and Walt Whitman.
Melville was a poet: “Melville His World and Work,” by Andrew Delbanco
