Riding the roller coaster
insubstantial enough to walk
through yet still be lifted
and dropped,
the child squeals,
hands in the air,
salt caked on sun burnt cheeks
from having lost too many hours
at the ocean.

That is the poem I wrote “on demand” at my Intro to Poetry class last week. It was a small group, just four eager students, but we got some good work done and it was fun deconstructing Frost.

Saturday I’ll be teaching another class. This time I’ll be in Rolesville, North Carolina, with some middle schoolers talking about poetry on demand. I believe poetry on demand is a skill that can only be unlearned and, with a little luck, the kids will leave my session knowing when to properly employ ignorance.