by Tiffany Midge, art by Megan Perkins

Monster say narr-a-tive poem too tell-y.

Break up story-poem into image. Frac-ture.

Monster like smash-y poem. Not tell-y poem.

Monster write coyote poem. All coyote howl.

That what coyote do. But who care? Monster

make them curse instead

Ex-ple-tive     ex-ple-tive     ex-ple-tive

all over lunar eclipse. Monster no like well-thumbed

volume of shop-worn cliché.

Writing tip: Monster not like re-dun-dent.

Monster see con-stant nagg-ing in poem,

or wet water, Monster cry.

Monster re-create noun into verb. “Tinsles,” and “Cottons”

to make image of snow. Monster feel proud. Monster like

nouns re-created as verb. Monster big on re-creation.

Monster like taste, smell, touch, sound,

thing to see. Except fire. Monster not like fire.

Monster think poet should be specific, personal,

not general or abstract. Cryptic, eso-ter-ic story

not help Monster connect, Monster no purchase

or in-vest-ment in story only writer know. Bring story

into sharp relief, spe-ci-fi-cit-y monster’s friend.

Monster no like surreal image.

Make no sense. Like in Sesame Street song,

‘one of these thing not like other,

one of these thing just not belong.’

Monster no like flower poem.

Flower poem about flower too flowery, re-dun-dant.

Meta flower poem. But sometimes flower

must be written about. Flower pushy like that.

Monster no have grasp of articles and con-junc-tions.

Sometime that okay. Monster no like latinate word,

or fancy big word, Monster like one syll-a-ble noun

and verb. Monster favorite word cat.

Monster like best one syll-a-ble noun with slant

or end rhyme. They make poem be-boppy, monster

like sync-o-pa-tion. Monster like poem to dance.

This poem originally appeared in Chapter House Journal

Tiffany Midge is a citizen of the Standing Rock Nation. Her book, Bury My Heart at Chuck E. Cheese’s (Bison Books, 2019), was a Washington State Book Award nominee.