What to do when you don’t have the name of a poet

1. Spend some time mourning the fact. Write a lament for all the ones you wish you had but never will. Briefly reconsider your stance on marriage and name-taking.

Remember this is folly. Return to your mourning.

2. Appeal to the atua. Call upon your tūpuna. Surely they’ve got one saved for situations just like this. Apologise for not getting in touch for a while. I mean, part of the reason why you haven’t is the reason why you haven’t, right?

Wait for an answer as long as you can.

3. Call your parents. Ask them again why they chose this one for you. Demand a more satisfactory reason than the one they have previously provided. Tell them that this – all of this – the half-empty notebooks, the decorative how-to-guides, the paper crumbs leading back into the wood are all their fault and that you are not responsible for the consequences of their poor decision-making.

4. Think about the loved ones and say them out loud to yourself.

They go: 2 syllables, 3 syllables. Or: 3 syllables, 2 syllables. Or: 2 syllables, 2 syllables 1.

Think about the 2 syllable, 2 syllable poets and their beautiful symmetry.

Alas for you, you 2 syllable, 1 syllable wannabe.

5. Toy with the idea of using initials.

Think about how maybe this is a convention usually followed by fantasy authors. Think about how this will affect the vibe you are going for.

Go back to step 1.

6. Consider using a nom de plume.

Bonus points for a) alliteration b) assonance c) Shakespearian characters d) Greek goddesses e) colours f) hyphens (the cool kind) g) animals (preferably the strong, the beautiful, and the rare).

7. Steal one. Some people aren’t even using theirs to their full potential. You’d be doing them a favour and your exes owe you anyway. How dare they walk around at home in the world with names like that, unburdened by metaphor and untethered to the quest for lyrical absolution.

8. Draw on the greats for inspiration: see the seawomen rising from their oceanic abodes, swampland spiders sporting tokotoko, and houses still standing in the midst of the apocalypse - all of them wriggling their backbones towards you, revelling in possibility.

9. Laugh about it. There is nothing you can do to rectify this unfortunate situation.

10. Cry about it. There is nothing you can do to rectify this unfortunate situation.

11. Lather.

12. Rinse.

13. Repeat.

14. Anonymous?

15. Admit to yourself that you want them to know it was you.