Write the worst poem in the world.
To up the ante, I turned this into a contest. When introducing the task, I would rant and rave about how the poem absolutely, positively had to be the most horrific thing anyone had ever written. It had to be so bad that readers would cringe in embarrassment because they belonged to the same species as the human who had produced such an odious work.
My students went crazy for this assignment. They wrote real doozies and loved presenting them (with many a dramatic flourish) to the class, who would then vote for a winner. Somehow, there was always one particular poem that shone most abysmally, and that poet won a gaudy, tinny crown.
These "bad poems," in all their wrongness, taught us so much about what made a poem good. They started a discussion about subtlety, showing (not telling!), trite rhymes, and how cloying sentimentality can turn stomachs.
It was a great way to get students excited while showing them that they already knew a lot about poetry.
We all intuitively know more about poetry than we realize; why we are afraid to embrace that knowledge always puzzles me.
