![]() ![]() That day I understood that there were good and bad poems, that it was possible after reading them to say ‘I like it’ and ‘I don’t like it,’ and that there were bad poems that could be liked a lot, like ‘Nocturne for Rosario,’ and good poems that can leave you indifferent. Not only did I not think it was bad but I found it moving, and I hid that feeling as best as I could, because my father paused every two or three lines to make fun of it. ![]() But one day my father read us ‘Nocturne for Rosario’ by Manuel Acuña, telling us that it was the worst Mexican poem of all time. ![]() “We thought all poems, by the mere fact of being poems, were good and that judging them was foolish. ![]()
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