Are you an aspiring poet looking for tips and guidance on how you can take your content to new heights? Then don’t read this piece!  Inspired by Horace’s “Ars Poetica.”

About the Artist:  

Torrey Kurtzner (Undeclared, Class of 2018) writes mostly satirical humor pieces, inspired throughout his life by television shows like The Simpsons, Seinfeld and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.  In the future, he would love to write comedic screenplays for movies, sketches or television shows. One of his biggest dreams is to both write and adapt a sketch for Saturday Night Live (SNL).

Warning: This piece contains explicit content (swearing) and may not be suitable for all audiences.

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Torrey Kurtzner’s: Ars Poetica

If wishing to be a better poet you do seek,

Listen to me not as I speak.

For my knowledge on rhymes is rather quite scary,

You’re much better off getting tips from a fairy.

But since fairies aren’t real and you seek the answers,

Share with me a cigarette and we’ll slowly die of cancer.

(lights cigarette, inhales)

Let me tell you somethin’ about poetry.

(exhales smoke)

If looking for rules, you’ll find I have none,

For telling people what to do isn’t much fun.

Instead I’ll share with you some thoughts on my process,

And then you’ll get a sense of what little knowledge I possess.

If wanting to rhyme like a champion at ease,

You’ll need to be descriptive as those trees.

See those trees over there? Blowing in the breeze?

What marvelous descriptions pulsate through their… knees…

Knees? I meant roots! Roots of a tree!

And being descriptive sells poems, you see.

And getting money for poems is especially key,

For without money, how can we afford to… ski?

Just- just be descriptive! That can help, I guess.

(takes drag from cigarette)

All this rhyming has my mind pressed with stress.

(exhales smoke)

Speaking of which, rhyming isn’t necessarily crucial,

For poems without them are still quite fruitful.

From what I understand, they’re called free verse… baby,

And I guess they’re pretty popular on the streets… maybe.

I’m not really sure. Like I said, I’m no expert-

(takes drag from cigarette)

Something-something-something, that rhymes with “expert”.

(exhales smoke)

What else to say, what else to tell?

I guess speak your mind, no matter how many yell.

And yell they will, because after all,

The overly PC brats of today love to bawl.

And those that say you’re wrong, and call you a schmuck,

At the end of the day, who gives a fuck?

If they kill you for thinking differently, consider yourself lucky.

After all, who would want to live in a world that’s so… yucky?

Christ-

(takes drag from cigarette)

I hate poetry.

(exhales smoke)

My cigarette is out, and thus is my knowledge,

I hope you found it useful, I learned it while in college.

My background in Poetry? I took a class once.

Didn’t learn much, I’m still quite a dunce.