I Will Be Honest About Poetry
I do not like poetry. Not a pose, not a phase I grew out of. The rhythm does not land for me, probably an ADHD thing. I am telling you that up front so the rest is honest.Share on X
Poetry at Work Day falls on the second Tuesday in January. It celebrates the idea that poetry is hidden in everyday work, the rhythm of a well-built sentence, the compression of a good tagline, the craft buried in writing nobody calls poetry.
I am going to be straight with you, because pretending otherwise would be useless. I do not like poetry. This is not a pose and not a phase I am about to grow out of in the next three paragraphs. I am pretty flat on it. The rhythm, the thing poetry lovers prize most, mostly does not land for me. I suspect it is an ADHD thing, and since I have written openly about my ADHD in my books, I will say it plainly here too. My brain does not settle into the meter and music the way a poetry lover’s does. It just does not click.
So I am an odd person to write about a poetry holiday. But that is exactly why this one is worth writing, because the day still points at something true, even for someone who bounces off poetry itself.
The Useful Part, From Someone Who Bounces Off the Form
You do not have to like poetry to steal its best trick: say the most in the fewest words. That skill shows up in every email, headline, and line of business writing you will ever do.Share on X
Here is what Poetry at Work Day gets right, and it survives even my dislike of the form. Poetry is the art of compression, and compression is useful everywhere.
A poem says the most possible in the fewest possible words. Every word is load-bearing, nothing is wasted, the whole thing is squeezed down to its essence. I may not enjoy reading that, but I cannot deny it is a real skill, and it is the same skill that makes everyday writing work. A great email subject line is compression. A tagline that sticks is compression. A sentence that lands hard does it by cutting everything that was not pulling weight. That is the poet’s discipline, applied to writing that nobody would call poetry.
So you can take the useful part and leave the rest, which is roughly what I do. I will never love a sonnet. But the underlying skill, making every word count, is one I use constantly, and it is the most transferable thing poetry has to offer the rest of us.
What My Dislike Actually Taught Me
There is a lesson in not liking something too, and it is one I value. Knowing what does not work for your brain is its own kind of useful.
For a long time I assumed I was supposed to like poetry, that not connecting with it was a gap in me to feel bad about. Eventually I figured out it is just how I am wired. My ADHD brain wants forward motion and a story to chase, not rhythm to sink into, and that is fine. Understanding that did two things. It let me stop pretending, and it pointed me toward the writing I actually do well, the prose, the fiction, the forms with momentum. Knowing your wiring is not a limitation. It is a map.
That is the honest version of a poetry holiday from someone who does not like poetry. The form is not for me, and I have stopped apologizing for it. But the skill underneath it is for everyone, and you do not have to enjoy the art to steal its best tool.
How to Spend Poetry at Work Day
If you love poetry, this is your day, enjoy it fully. Find the rhythm in your work, write a few lines, lean into the music. I am genuinely glad it works for you.
If you are like me and poetry leaves you cold, here is your version. Take one thing you have to write this week, an email, a description, a headline, and cut it in half. Make every remaining word earn its place. That is the poet’s skill without the poetry, and it will make the writing sharper. You do not have to like the art to use the craft. That is the whole point of the day for the rest of us, and it is the only honest way I can recommend it.