Everyone has lots to say
about poetry

“Don’t just break those sentences!”
I hear their mouth twist
“Why are you writing outdated sonnets?”
I see their wrinkled nose

But who is to say what makes,
the same poem unremarkable and life-changing
Who is to decide what is ‘good’ poetry
except your buoyant, beating heart?

Let them wince their eyes
“You use too many metaphors!”
Let them flinch their jaw
“Why do you have such low standards?”

Those that critique don’t write
neither live a poem
beyond rhyme schemes, word choices, grammar syntax,
all those broken rules