I usually have to have poems explained to me, unless they are about, like, Drummer Hodge and how sad it is that his northern brains are somewhere because of (I assume) the Boer War, because in that case, I'm like, Ah, this poem is about Drummer Hodge's northern brains. So the first time I read "Goblin Market" (for SCHOOL, obviously), my response went something along the lines of, "Nice poem. What industrious goblins. Fruit is…

I never know when someone's on drugs or had plastic surgery, or when a poem is supposed to "really" be about sex even though it's clearly about plants. I never get metaphors. Everything always has to be explained to me, like Ax in the Animorphs series.