Who's the speaker of this poem? Who. No, Who's the Poet.

Last night while discussing poems with my lovely poetry group, I heard myself say, "the speaker" and felt confused. I have long been the champion of keeping things impersonal-- something I think especially important in an undergraduate workshop. But poetry isn't impersonal. Maybe it should be ok to want to cry when someone hates your poem?

This struck me particularly when I was talking about the speaker in my own poem, and I almost accidentally said "I." The speaker was first-person, and though only 1/2 of what I'd written had actually happened to me, I'd imagined the other half, so that had happened to me, too, right? I was conflicted.

I might stop talking about speakers so much if I can help it. I've been trained, of course, but it seems silly to try to intentionally distance the poet from the work when "the speaker" closely resembles the poet. If I write about a 30-something mom who likes goats, chances are I'm writing at least 25% of my own business topped off by 75% of stuff (hopefully) nobody else would think to write. So, from now on, I am the me of my poems-- even if I'm not...