Poetry Writing Lessons: Asking Questions Like Aimee Nezhukumatathil
- Kaecey McCormick
- Dec 16
- 4 min read
Greetings, creatives!
December always brings a unique mix of joy and overwhelm. Between the winter holidays, family gatherings, and shorter days, it can feel like there’s hardly any time left for writing.
That’s why this month’s Poetry Writing Lessons post is focused on finding inspiration in small, manageable chunks—the kind you can carry with you even in the busiest season.
This time, we’re looking at Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s witty and surprising poem “Are All the Break-Ups in Your Poems Real?” (Click the link to read the poem, which I can't copy here in full due to copyright regulations!)
This poem is found in the anthology Courage: Daring Poems for Gutsy Girls, which I featured in my post earlier this month; click here to read more about the anthology.
"Are All the Break-Ups in Your Poems Real" is a piece that asks big questions in just fourteen short lines, reminding us that poetry can be both playful and profound. That’s why I thought it was the perfect poem to analyze and use as inspiration in this month’s poetry writing lesson.
Let's dive in!
Analysis:
(1) The power of a question as title
One of the first things you notice about this poem is its title—which also serves as its first line. Aimee drops us right into conversation:
“Are all the break-ups in your poems real? / If by real you mean as real as a shark tooth stuck / in your heel, the wetness of a finished lollipop stick…”
That opening question feels like something a reader (or student, or interviewer) might really ask a poet. It’s direct, slightly nosy, and immediately engaging.
By framing the poem as a response, Aimee invites us into dialogue, making us feel like participants instead of passive observers.
Takeaway for writers: Questions are powerful entry points. They spark curiosity, set tone, and create intimacy. Using a question as your title (or first line) can instantly pull your reader closer.
(2) Echoes of tradition: An almost-sonnet
This poem is exactly 14 lines long—the length of a sonnet. But instead of using rhyme or meter, Aimee plays with humor, surreal images, and shifting answers.
As a result, the structure feels conversational, yet the line count gestures toward the weight of tradition. There’s tension in that choice: the expectation of a sonnet form collides with the breezy wit of the Q&A structure. The result? A fresh, surprising poem that wears its tradition lightly.
Takeaway for writers: Sometimes it’s enough to echo a form without following all the rules. A familiar shape can give your poem authority while your voice fills it with something new.
(3) A note on sound
Even in its casual tone, this poem sings through sound. Listen to the opening again:
“…a shark tooth stuck / in your heel, the wetness of a finished lollipop stick, / the surprise of a thumbtack in your purse—”
The consonance of stuck/heel/stick and the rhythm of short, tactile nouns give those lines a snap and bite.
Later, parallel phrases like “one chops up some parsley, one stirs a bubbling pot” build a musical pattern.
Takeaway for writers: Sound is always at work, even in plainspoken poems. When revising, read aloud to catch the consonance, alliteration, and parallel rhythms that give your poem texture.
Step-by-step writing exercise:
Here’s a guided prompt inspired by Aimee’s poem. Set aside 20 minutes and see what unfolds:
Choose your question.
Think of something someone might ask you about your art, life, or habits. Examples:→ “Why do you always write about birds?”→ “Do you actually believe in ghosts?”→ “Is this poem really about you?”
Make it your title.
Use your chosen question as the title— and the first line—of your poem.
Answer playfully, then pivot.
Like Aimee does, start with surprising, metaphorical, or funny answers. After a few, turn toward something more vulnerable or revealing.
Use the sonnet’s shadow.
Aim for 14 lines. Don’t worry about rhyme or meter. Just let the shape hold your experiment.
Listen for sound.
When you revise, underline places where consonance, alliteration, or parallel phrasing appear. Could you heighten those effects to make your poem sing?
Final thoughts on poetry writing lessons for December
As the year winds down, I’m reminded that poetry doesn’t need hours of solitude to thrive. A single question, a playful image, or a brief moment of sound can be enough to spark something new—even during the busiest season.
So here’s my challenge for you this December: carve out a little space, grab a question that’s been on your mind, and see where it takes you. Even one line, one page, or one playful draft can keep your creative fire alive through the holidays.
If you enjoyed this poetry writing lesson and want more guided prompts and exercises, you might love my workbook The Everyday Writer's Guide to Starting a Writing Practice. It’s packed with step-by-step activities to help you stay inspired year-round.
What about you? What questions are waiting to spark your next poem? I’d love to hear in the comments or message me through the site!
Wishing you a joyful holiday season—and poems that surprise you in the best ways.
