Subject (April)

You don’t like it because it doesn’t rhyme enough. It exposes your phobia. Pretentious? You don’t want to understand. You say not all my poems are fantastic. Why worry? Someone else might like it. You don’t like the stuff about childhood, my easy familiarity. Some of it’s about you but the rest isn’t. Why did you read it anyway? You say your favourite poem of mine is the one about April hiding at night. You won’t even say why you like that poem. You leave the room and hide behind a book: one hundred great poems selected by famous people.