Poetry Critique at Our House

Unlike almost all of my writer friends, I'm married to a non-writer. But Ben is still my first reader. This worked better—or at least was less fraught— when I was writing non-fiction. Reaction to my poetry seems to be limited to a discussion of its level of grimness. A recent example:

Me: What do you think?

Ben: It's pretty grim. You know that, right?

Me: Yes, but can you see why I'm excited about it?

Ben: It's ... evocative.

Me: What does that mean?

Ben: It evokes a degree of horror and dread greater than any of your other poems.

Score!

A Conversation Representative of the Level of Fashion Discussion in Our Household

Ben: What is it with you and all this Eileen Fisher stuff?

Me: She has a system...

Ben: She has a sister?

Me: She has a system—all the tops and jackets and pants and skirts go together.

Ben: Oh, like Garanimals.

A Recent Conversation...

... while walking Lily Beth in the Middlesex Fells:

Ben: You're pretty.

KT: I'm hungry, I have to pee, and I feel dizzy.

Ben: Well, it becomes you.

That's it—our relationship in a nutshell.