My sister took her grandson Mason for a recent visit to the poetry museum. In the Craig’s List poetry exhibit, he ignored the instructions (I love when people do that–I’m serious) and wrote a poem about a vampire:
Children understand heaven and hell better than we do.
He also spent a fair amount of time in the Poetry-Wear corner, making bracelets. I’m sure since his grandmother poet was with him, one of them said, “YAWP!” on it because she and I are both Whitman-freaks.
He also made a block poem:
at the ocean
the water being
the best days are
Of course, no trip to the museum would be complete without a trip to the red velvet chair in the secret corner. I will not tell you what he wrote in the secret book. You will have to come to the museum and see for yourself. It’s a secret for now.
The museum is a place for people of all ages. Some of the adult visitors to the museum don’t quite know what to do with themselves in it. The children know immediately. Teenagers, too. An 18-year-old visitor told me, “This is exactly what I thought a poetry museum should be like.”