I’m really glad April is almost over. Does everyone know that April is National Sexual Assault Awareness month? It’s also National Poetry Month. Anyone who knows me well would know that I really don’t like April. Poetry everywhere I look. Rhymes. Iambic pentameter, even the odd limerick puts me sort of on edge. Poetry advocates wearing green shirts all over the place. Constant reminders of Browning, Joyce, Shakespeare.
Lifetime TV for women movies of the week with titles like “mother may I sleep with stanzas?” and “She cried no! Then Blow, Then Row! Go Joe Go!” And one wonders why I love me my xanax something fierce.
I know the idea of having national poetry month is a good idea. Everyone should know about poetry and different ways of protecting themselves from it, and even be able to know in some cases, what poetry is, and be able to identify it by name, and to know what they should do should they be faced with poetry in their own lives.
But I have to say, on behalf of those who know more about poetry than most people ever should, and are forced to reread it again and again and again, so much that every syllable of every line is memorized, we could deal without a month of anthologies and poetry lessons thrown in our face. For some of us, every month is poetry month. Is it that wrong that sometimes some people just want to forget poetry ever existed? Maybe that could be respected, too. Poetry prevention is important, but so is sensitivity to those who’ve been forced to read it.
National High Blood Pressure Awareness Month
National Bicycle Month
National Foster Care Month
National Stroke Awareness Month
National Historic Preservation Month
AND… National Masturbation Month Yay May.