As a published poet, I'm pretty blase about National Poetry Month. I think of an interview Morgan Freeman gave years ago on "60 Minutes" in which Mike Wallace asked him for his thoughts on Black History Month. Freeman called it "ridiculous" and asked, "Which month is White History Month?" Moments later, he clarified: "I don't want a Black History Month. Black history is American history."
Likewise, for those devoted to the craft, every month is Poetry Month. But it's an unshakable truth that, the occasional Eliot aside, most poets don't become household names. So if any groups try some of the "30 Ways to Celebrate" the academy lists on its website — which include "Attend a poetry reading," "Take a poem out to lunch" and my favorite, "Put poetry in an unexpected place" — I can't help but cheer the recognition. (Locally, the Mesa Verde Library has announced plans to set up a display and poetry-themed drawing at the circulation desk, while the Newport Beach Public Library is encouraging readers to create "book spine poetry" by arranging books so the titles on their spines create a phrase.)
In fact, looking over that list of 30 things, I've done most of them in April and beyond. Memorize a poem? You should hear me recite "Fire and Ice." Organize a poetry reading? Dozens of times. Watch a poetry movie? My 11th-grade English teacher regaled us with "Dead Poets Society."
But there's one endeavor the academy doesn't list, and it's one many of my poet friends have done to commemorate April: the hair-raising 30/30 challenge. That's where you write a poem each day from April 1 to 30, and I've never even thought about doing it.