On Tocqueville

I have recently discovered that poetry is my favorite form of writing. Not to say that I don't enjoy reading novels, but I love the way that poetry flows. Last Christmas, my dad got me a book of poems. I can't remember the name of the author off the top of my head, but I love most of the poems in the book. Tocqueville has become a book of poetry that I am proud to have on my bookshelf.

At first, flipping through the pages, I didn't think I would enjoy this book very much. The power point-style poems were confusing and strange to me. However, upon actually reading the book, I found that I thoroughly enjoyed the actual poems. My favorite to read as well as imitate was Ecclesiastes. I interpreted it as a kind of therapist's guide to helping patients. In fact, I even sent my therapist the name of the poem so she could look it up. Maybe it was just the ending part: "The rule is everyone is a gypsy now. Everyone is searching for their tribe." That kind of reminded me of my therapist because she's a hippie and that sounds like something she would say.

I loved imitating Ecclesiastes. I took a poem that was up for interpretation and made it blatantly obvious that it was about an eating disorder. I have struggled with anorexia for about a year now. She whispers nasty things about my body in a raspy voice that I find it hard to ignore and fight at times. As soon as I read this poem when searching for one to imitate, I knew exactly what I could do with it. I let her tell me everything she wants from me and put it into Mattawa's format. She's still there, but she's quieter now.