Hi, and thanks for reading! Today is Monday, so we’re going to talk about poetry.

If you want to go directly to the poetry exercise, and skip all this “recipe blog” backstory, scroll to the next subhead.

I’ve had a “day job” in journalism since I was sixteen, which means I’ve spent the better part of my life hearing about how bad journalism is. People talk about magazines and digital media like they do SNL: it used to be good, and now it isn’t, and never ever will be. Keep in mind, most of my career experience is in lifestyle and opinion writing, with some technical stuff mixed in. I’ve never been a hard-hitting news person, not really. But as far as my kind of writing goes, most of what I’ve made/consumed in the last 12 years seems pretty on par with what was produced in the preceding 75 or so.

The millennial media legacy is inextricably linked to Buzzfeed and its primary export, the listicle. I’ve always been confused by the vitriol aimed at the listicle. They’re so efficient. Sure, they’re lazy, but if you’re scrolling Buzzfeed to pass the time, do you really want to expend a lot of energy? Lists as content are certainly not new – how dare you get mad at me for anything David Letterman has also done – but I think about Buzzfeed, and listicles, every time I encounter a list poem.

It’s easy to write off list poems as “lazy,” espeically if your aim is to write off poetry as lazy. I’ve encountered a lot of people who want to dismiss poetry sooooooooo bad. The same way they want to dismiss, say, anyone who writes Top 10 Home Maintenance Tips That Cost Nothing and Will Fix Your Problems articles for a living. But writing hundreds of “effortless,” sraightforward listicles has made me a faster, more confident, more dedicated writer. Experimenting with structure and meter has improved my narrative writing. You see where I’m going with this?

Poetry is always emotional, but the most effective poetry embeds the emotional experience in something tangible. A fact. A thing we know. An image. A sensory experience. Lists are a great way to do that, rapid-fire.

In the spirit of the humble listicle, we’re going to be working on a list poem today. I’ve snagged some examples for you. The first is a list poem…made of headlines…from the New York Times…whoa, meta! It’s from Harper’s.

I’m recommending two list poems that are too long to screengrab and stick here. The first, in Waxwing, is Strip by Jessica Abughattas, which is a twist on the dictionary-definition poem; the second is called It’s 9:30am, I’ve ran four miles, cried four times, & eaten two chicken sandwiches, by Christian Aldana. That link will take you to The Slowdown, where you can hear our current Poet Laureate Ada Limón read it.

Exercise: Ten Minutes, Ten Things

All you’ll need is a timer! And, you know, typing/writing surface. We’re going to spend half the time capturing, half the time constructing.

Here is where my evil plotting comes in: I am putting on my editorial hat. Despite my background in magazines/digital journalism, nothing has made me a better editor than poetry. So even though you need ten things for this poem, we’re going to write around fifty, and cut it down. I’m sorry! I’m mean! But you can do it.

  • Grab your timer. Set it for one minute.In the first five minutes of this exercise, we’re going to be making five lists. I’m going to list a bunch of prompts (whoa, META!) and you can choose the five you want to do. Maybe it’s the five easiest, maybe it’s five topics you’ve never thought about before, maybe you choose them completely at random. But you’re going to be spending one whole minute on each prompt.Remember, we’re going to be editing things down, then revising them as we construct our poem. If your lists aren’t perfect, if they don’t make sense, if they totally suck: that’s fine! The important part is getting your words out as consistently as you can.

  • In one minute, list out 10 things that fall into one of these categories.You may also come up with some list ideas of your own…and if you do, use them! Since I’m making you use your generative brain so much, I figured you might appreciate the assist with these.

    • 10 things you never want to do again

    • 10 things you’ve always wanted to do

    • 10 things you always do every day, no matter what

    • 10 songs that have made you cry

    • 10 places you’ll never get to go again

    • 10 things you feel guilty for not doing, because you’re writing a poem

    • 10 smells you associate with a specific person

    • 10 movies that have made you laugh to the point of tears

    • 10 things you’d save from a fire

    • 10 careers you have thought about having, but didn’t

    • 10 things you know for certain

    • 10 questions you have about life

    • 10 things you’re afraid of

    • 10 things you’d do with $1 million

    • 10 things that show up in all your dreams

    • 10 crushes

    • 10 kisses

    • 10 greeting card slogans

    • 10 characters you’d trade lives with

    • 10 Pokemon names you can remember off the top of your head

    • 10 capitol cities

    • 10 wishes you’ve made on an eyelash, a birthday candle, or at 11:11

    • 10 beliefs you used to have, and now don’t

    • 10 things you’d tell a person no longer in your life

    • 10 things you wanted, and are now happy you didn’t get

    • 10 objects you’ve broken

    • 10 people you’ve helped

    • 10 dogs, cats, bugs, animals etc. you’ve seen but not touched

    • 10 titles you’d use for a memoir

  • Repeat the one-minute list-making exercise. You should have five lists, with 50 entries. If you have a few more, or a few less, that’s okay too.

  • Now, before you set your timer again, take a little breather. Get up, drink something, maybe have a stretch. Unlock your brain from the list-making frenzy. When you sit back down, look at all five of your lists at once.

  • Set your timer for five minutes. We’re going to create a new list – a list poem.

  • First, take a look at what you’ve written and make a note of anything that shows up across multiple lists. Does Ferris Bueller show up on “crushes,” “characters you’d trade lives with,” and “movies that have made you laugh to the point of tears?” Did you find any odd repetitions between lists, or associations you’d never considered before? Highlight these or draw stars by them.

  • Highlight the list items that surprised you the most, or that gave you the biggest emotional reaction. Highlight the items that you’d feel guilty not including.

  • Create a new list – yep! – with what you’ve highlighted. Look at the entries that stood out to you– maybe it’s 11, maybe it’s 20 – and pick the top 10. Reverse-engineer a title based on what they all have in common. When you decide how they all “fit,” I want you to try and shift the focus a little. All the prompts I suggested were things you have a reaction to, people, places, movies, memories, etc. With your new poem, I want you to try and create a title that explains what all these disparate items tell us about you. How do they contribute to your sense of identity? How do they reflect the life you’ve lived? Maybe a title like “Things I used to be embarrassed about and no longer am” or “Things I think could make really funny scenes in a sitcom about my family” or “Things my friends use as conversational shorthand in place of my name” or “Things I had been saving to tell a person I’m certain I’ll never speak to again.” Let the title do the work of explaining this tiny fragment of things that are vital to your person. If you need more inspiration, I’ve written silly list poems and somber list poems you can go read right now!

Thanks for reading. I’ll see you again in the Friday Dispatch. What am I gonna write about then?! I don’t know. Maybe Christmas decor. Maybe the new Pokemon game. Maybe the source of my new, violent knee and back bruises. Guess you’ll have to read it! Hey, if you subscribe RIGHT NOW, you’ll make sure not to miss it, either.

Could you also please do me a favor? If you enjoyed this exercise and found it valuable, or if you think it’s super bad and want to mock it with your mean coworkers, please forward it along so others can read it. It’ll take mere seconds and I’ll appreciate it, even if Hot Joey from the sales desk calls me a talentless buffoon!

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