I don’t love fish. One thing this means is that people in my life who do love fish are constantly trying to introduce me to fish that I might like. The least fishy fish in the sea! Barely Fish™! This fish almost tastes like it grew up on land! They insist that I just haven’t found the right one and when I do my eyes will be opened and my life will be changed.
This is what I’m about to do to you with poetry.
Before my Great Poetry Awakening, I honestly didn’t think much about the genre. I had a run of the mill appreciation for some of the classics that we read in school—I’m not a monster!—but for the most part I saw it as heavy, stuffy; overflowing with “doths” and “nays” and “shan’ts.”
Much like fish, I certainly saw how people could love it, I just didn’t think it was for me.
And then, thanks to the internet, I started coming across poems that really resonated with me. They made me feel less alone. They made me cry. Crazier still—they made me laugh. A lifelong writer, I had never dabbled in poetry, but one fateful day, while visiting my boyfriend’s family, I was taking a shower in his childhood home bathroom and suddenly a poem started writing itself in my head.
Fast forward about two years and that poem—called, “My Boyfriend is from Alabama,”—is included in my forthcoming poetry book, A Bit Much. How’s that for a spoiler alert? At the time, I wasn’t even sure if what I had written was a poem, but I fell hard and fast for the style and soon began sharing my work on Instagram under the handle @maryoliversdrunkcousin. I realized quickly that poetry can be whatever we want to be, and that’s part of what makes it so special.
In A Bit Much, for example I use humor and absurdity to explore heavier topics. I title my pieces ridiculous things like, “Resurrectile Dysfunction” (about leaving my religion), and “Heck Yes I Have an MFA: Major Frickin’ Attitude” (about artistic gatekeeping), and “A Race Against the Guac” (about the societal pressures women face as they age).
As it turns out, I wrote a book of poetry for people who don’t like poetry; myself included.
I’m by no means the first to break tradition or subvert expectations in this field. I credit many of the poets in the list below with showing me how to experiment with form, rewrite the rules, play with words and of course: reveal something true and meaningful to the reader. You should give these books a shot, they just might (read: definitely will) surprise you.
God I Feel Modern Tonight: Poems from a Gal About Town by Catherine Cohen
Catherine Cohen has been called a voice of her generation and, hilariously, a Notes-App Laureate. In her debut book of poetry she takes her observational comedy skills and channels them into angsty, sexy, truly funny poems. Her work is self-indulgent without being self-serious and she masterfully finds a way to make millennial minutiae and mundanity take on deeper meaning. (I have officially used up all of my “m” words for the day.) Cohen’s poems are short and sweet and salty and you may find yourself reading the entire book in one go.
Your Emergency Contact Has Experienced an Emergency by Chen Chen
If the incredible title of the book doesn’t make you fall in love right away, perhaps you’ll be wooed by the fact that Chen Chen’s poetry is often described as “anarchic.” What better type of poetry to dive into if you “don’t like poetry”?! That’s what I thought, Wiseguy! Okay, but seriously, in this, his second collection, Chen writes about how and who we call home—with punchy irreverence and vulnerable depth; candidly exploring his conflict with his parents about his sexuality. This is the perfect book to win yourself over on poetry and Chen Chen publishes new work constantly, which will come in handy once you finish this book and find yourself fully obsessed with his words.
I Hope This Finds You Well by Kate Baer
I’m furious I have to pick from Kate’s three existing books for this list, because they’re all fantastic. But for the sake of the task at hand (strong-arming you into giving poetry a shot), I Hope This Finds You Well is the perfect starter because it’s an entire book of erasure poetry. Don’t know what that is? It’s basically taking existing text and erasing large portions of it to reveal a new meaning with the remaining words. Baer does this masterfully by taking messages she received online from followers, fans, spammers, and haters and transforming their often-vitriolic intent into something new and beautiful.
The Unfolding: An Invitation to Come Home to Yourself by Arielle Estoria
Estoria has the voice of an angel, and the words to match. A spoken-word poet, musician, and actor, she translates her vocal magic to the written word in this collection of poems, essays, and meditations. Her work has been described as a “lullaby” and you don’t have to even get 10 pages into this book to see how true that is. The Unfolding feels like a hug—walking you through Estoria’s own unfolding, and reminding the reader to be gentle with where they’ve been and proud of who they are becoming.
What to Miss When by Leigh Stein
Leigh is stupid smart. But somehow her book of poems is approachable, and also bingeable. Written during the COVID-19 pandemic, Stein makes wry and timely (yet timeless?!) observations about everything from celebrity gossip to disassociation to wellness influencers to mortality. You never know what’s coming in these poems; one minute you’re sinking into your feelings, the next you’re surprise-laughing at the dark humor plot twist. Reading What to Miss When will remind you that when it comes to poetry, the only rule is there are no rules.
Peluda by Melissa Lozada-Oliva
A book of poems all about the relationship between femininity and body hair? Sign me up When you realize that Peluda translates to “hairy beast,” you start to instinctively know what you’re in for in this unapologetic collection from award-winning slam poet Melissa Lozada-Oliva. With titles like, “I Shave My Sisters Back Before Prom,” And “Red/Lip/Must/Ache,” Peluda creatively, tenderly, and surprisingly explores body image, identity, and family. Bonus: the cover is incredible.
Lobster by Hollie McNish
It’s fitting to close with a book that is all about the things we love and the things we hate (and then love again). Lobster: And Other Things I’m Learning to Love is refreshing and honest and passionate; with pieces about learning to love her body, pleasure, and the word “moist.” McNish’s poems and prose have whimsy and conviction in equal measure and invite the reader to question the external influences that guide our choices…even the smallest ones. Lobster will remind you that love is a much more worthwhile use of our (limited) time than hate. In fact, it may have helped me change my mind about fish. (Maybe.)