WHY I HATE POETRY WORKSHOPS 

WHY I HATE POETRY WORKSHOPS 

I don’t like to tell a lot

Of people this but to 

Write Poetry many years ago

I sold my

Soul to the devil at

The crossroads 

Y’see 

I tried to write

But everything rhymed I

Had a hard time believing 

That I could ever truly write or ever 

Become a famous poet

So one night just like Robert Johnson 

I walked down to crossroads and

Summoned him with a spell

And then?

He appeared 

And he looked alot like a 

Bad shitty Wish version of some goth 

Elon Musk in a cheap red suit

Which was really disappointing 

And so there we both stood

Across from each other in 

A strange silence and in an 

Awkward younger voice I asked;

So?

Do I sign some sort of 

Contract in blood?

He smiled smugly 

And then said:

YES !

And then he rolled out the long

Contract in Latin with an

X at the bottom 

Sign Here … He said

Pricking my finger with

A sharp old calligraphy pen

And I signed

And the devil

Still smiling smugly 

Just stood there in silence again

So I tried with this new demonic power

To create an amazing poem on the spot

But what came out was like

Some horribly sick weird version 

Of a poem that sounded like

A cross between Nine Inch Nails 

& Robert Frost

And still

Satan smiled

And upset I said,

But I thought that by selling my 

Soul I would immediately be able to create 

Amazing poems like Baudelaire 

Or Rimbaud !

So what the fuck is this?!

You lied!

Then

The devil laughed and 

Said :

Oh no

Don’t worry you will someday 

But Poetry takes a lot of practice 

In fact I run a weekly 

Poetry Workshop 

We’ll start on Sunday night !

The Granny’s are gonna love YOU!

Thanks for joining!

And then with an

Evil sinister bad guy echo laugh

He screamed ” Welcome To Hell!”

And then disappeared 

In flames

And now?

Whenever my life ends

My soul will go to hell

Where 

For an eternity I 

Will be in torture

Forced to teach poetry

Workshops

To other souls of the damned

~ R.M. Engelhardt 

©2024