In a world already plagued by existential dread and a lack of financially viable careers, local poet Danez Smith has boldly stepped onto the poetic stage, fully equipped with a series of negative affirmations that have left audiences questioning not just poetry, but the very meaning of existence itself. Smith's latest collection, "Bluff," begins with a resounding cry of "anti poetica," a declaration that effectively summarizes the entirety of modern literature in three simple yet disheartening words: "Why bother?" The inaugural poem kicks off with a litany of statements that deconstruct the traditional notions of worth and enlightenment associated with poetry. Among these, claims such as "no poem wiser than kindness" and "no poem free from money's ruin" have struck critics as a notable departure from the customary—yet wildly optimistic—belief that poetry could change the world. Instead, Smith's work offers a cold realization that kindness is, in fact, not an intellectual endeavor, but possibly just an ancient social construct designed to keep us from bickering over who stole the last piece of avocado toast. While Smith acknowledges the winter and the potential whiteness of their verses—a subtle jab at a literary form that often seems aloof from the realities of the human experience—it's the disheartening refrain of "no poem" that resonates most profoundly. This has prompted many avid readers to look inwardly at their dusty collections of poetry books and ask the question no one dared to voice: "What the heck have I been doing with my life?" Local bookstore owner and somewhat reluctant poet, Margaret Fiddleworth, expressed her feelings on the matter: "I used to think poetry was an escape, a place where one could find solace in rhymes and meter. But now? Now I need to re-evaluate every tea-drinking, soul-searching moment I've spent scribbling away in the margins of my journals. Maybe I should just spend that time binge-watching reality TV instead." In the midst of this chaotic poetic crisis, the literary community is now left to ponder the implications of Smith's work on future endeavors. Will impressionable college students still scour campus for their professors’ notes on the healing power of words? Or will they nonchalantly toss aside their notebooks in favor of TikTok, where brevity reigns supreme and profundity is a mere comment section away? As the discourse continues to unfold, Smith’s rhetorical questioning seems to be striking a chord with readers who have long felt that deep contemplation can sometimes feel like a futile dance on a quarter-filled stage. Critics are now wildly speculating whether the literary community should prepare for more "anti" poetry or if poets everywhere will simply switch careers and become motivational speakers, using bursts of cynicism as a unique selling point. Despite the grim prognosis of the poetry industry as laid out in "Bluff," one thing remains clear: the act of questioning the universe is vastly more entertaining than simply accepting it as it is. If the grass is always greener on the other side, Smith's work indicates that perhaps it's time to embrace the weeds and call it a garden.