Why I hate poetry, and poets.
Reluctant poet who hates poetry, and poets. My first exposure to “real” poetry was from a substitute teacher called Mr Simons. The man who burst my bubble about everything I thought I enjoyed and what I considered great! Usually a substitute teacher steps in and carries on the lesson or subject you had been previously working on, not Mr. Simons, He made it his mission to speak about Poetry, ALL THE TIME! His sentences didn’t ever rhyme….loser. Any way, he asked one Wednesday morning in English class if we knew any famous poems. First mistake, never ask a new class of first years a sensible question. I put my hand up instantly, expecting his sense of humour to be the same as our proper English teacher, Mr. Adams. I started to recite my favourite piece of written word, pure genius in my 12 year old mind. Beans, beans, the musical fruit, The more you eat the more you… Needless to say , his sense of humour, (or lack there of) was not the same as Mr. Adams and I was asked t