I think I’m having one of those days when I don’t want to be a poet anymore. God, why didn’t someone warn me what I was getting myself into.

Try telling someone that you’re a poet and watch their reaction. They immediately look away like you just told them you had the plague or something. Then they move back so they won’t catch it and they say something really profound like “oh, really.”

Apparently being a poet doesn’t evoke any probing questions like being a plumber or a paper delivery person would. At least then they might ask where your route is located or how did you ever learn what all those little round things are for.

To say “I am a poet” is like saying “I am a dinosaur.” If you say it differently you will get a different response. For instance, try saying “I write poetry” and you will get “Oh, really… why?” Now that’s much better. At least you’ve evoked a question. Not that you can answer it to their satisfaction but, at least they asked!

I have concluded that to keep poetry alive we simply need a new title. One that doesn’t associate us with an art that everyone believes is as dead as a dinosaur!
So, what shall we call ourselves?

How about “I am a Word Catalyst“. Let’s try that one!

“What do you do?”

“I am a Word Catalyst.”

“Oh, really. That sounds important. Tell me, what does a Word Catalyst do?”

“I write poetry.”

“Oh, really?”

Hmmmm…. back to the drawing board.