Poetry is not a Tame Art….

Poetry is not a tame art.

It doesn’t keep to where it’s told to. It pops out at you when you least expect it.

And it isn’t always formal, and delicate, either…

(Spoiler alert- if you are of delicate temperament, and favor only proper poems, I would like to take you gently by the hand and lead you past the rest of this post.

No, seriously. Move along now- nothing to see. There are plenty of other nice posts here for you to look at….


OK. For the rest of you, who can take poetry as you find it, raw and unrefined, I had a brief encounter with poetry wild the other day.

I was at the Big E- the Eastern Coast States exhibition. The big country fair for my part of the world. And, as is natural for ladies who have been wandering around for hours, drinking water and catching the sights, I had dropped into the ladies’ room.

And, as I stood in line, what did I hear?


“Welcome, ladies,
 to the urination station
the place to be
if you have to pee
at the Big E…”

The attendants were not only doing their jobs. They were putting poetry into it. And as they told us that:

“Number nine is fine…”


“Stall number two is just for you”

they made an everyday experience extraordinary.

How can your writing make someone’s day extraordinary?

Catherine Kane


This entry was posted in Other People's Writing, Poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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