The Line Break

Happily Ever After-Poem

How to write an after poem — without crossing the line

6 min readAug 3, 2022

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For writers, responding or reflecting on the texts that came before us is a time-honored tradition, from modern retellings of the classics to parodies to the use of allusion.

Intertextuality is the catch-all term for the myriad ways that a piece of writing is influenced by other texts.

A common form of intertextuality used to respond to other poems is the “after-poem”. Loosely defined as a poem in homage to, in conversation with, or inspired by another poem, after-poems are ubiquitous in poetry.

Most poets have written one or two — or at least have an idea sitting in their “in-progress” pile.

The fine line of after-poetry

Given the definition of “after-poem” is broad, it’s not surprising that contemporary poets have been called out for after-poems that, in the end, weren’t seen as different enough from their inspiration.

There’s no oversight committee for using other texts in poetry — no defined line for when homage, conversation, or inspiration become theft (there are copyright laws, of course, but you can’t copyright syntax or the usage of a certain metaphor).

An after-poem explicitly gives credit to its inspiration; however, if done incorrectly, can be overly derivative and feel plagiaristic regardless. Writes Kat Rosenfeld, “Rookie poets who lack the skill or experience to transform inspiration into innovation — or who simply don’t know what they don’t know — can easily blunder into problematic territory.”

In essence, we’re trying to stay on the right side of a line we can’t see clearly — and perhaps a line that keeps shifting.

Certain cases of drawing on other poets are obviously plagiarism, like in the instances of Ailey O’Toole or Pierre DesRuisseaux — both of whom took near-exact lines from multiple other poets and tried to pass them off as original. Moreover, in such cases, they often co-opted lines that speak to trauma and other personal experiences on the part of the original writer.

In an article about these scandals in Axon Journal, Alyson Miller writes: “In these instances, the plagiarist rather than the victim is the point of focus, thereby positioning the ‘other’ as Self, and effacing the experiences and expressions of already marginalised voices.”

However, not all instances of drawing from other poets are so cut-and-dried. Many poets, from T.S. Eliot to Victoria Chang, have used lines taken from their counterparts in ways that are seen as acceptable. The cento and erasure poems are both forms derived entirely from other texts.

Rather than being seen as a risky move, intertextuality is almost essential for a writer. Not only is writing in the manner of others an important learning tool for beginner writers, it’s also how we engage in the literary world and be part of greater conversations in the genre.

After Poems: Do’s & Don’ts

Poetry is an allusory art, but there is certainly a line that shouldn’t be crossed. Since we don’t have a defined boundary for exactly when you can assume a line will be recognized as an allusion, or how dead a poet should be before you can use a line, here are some do’s and don’ts to guide you through.

DO… Include a Note Identifying Source Material

While countless poets have taken a line from another poet, they’re generally put into new contexts and/or heavily modified. These lines are always either acknowledged in the notes, or “widely recognizable”.

A good rule of thumb is noting most, if not all, borrowed lines, as stated by Cassandra Lip:

“Always indicate borrowed lines with an author’s note at the beginning or end of the poem. For a collection of poems, you can add this attribution to your author’s notes at the end as well. It is also preferable to indicate which lines are borrowed if they are not widely recognizable lines such as “T’was the night before Christmas.”

DON’T… Draw From Multiple Lines, Ideas, or Images

In the O’Toole scandal, she copied entire stanzas (and entire poems, in some cases) and tried to call it “paraphrasing” later, when she was caught.

Rather than a paraphrase, it looks like O’Toole just took a thesaurus to switch up a couple of the words, and modified the line breaks.

You can still clearly see how it follows the narrative and syntax of the original:

O’Toole is copying (not drawing upon) multiple images and ideas — spitting teeth into the sink; tracing skin; finding God — as well as mirroring the syntax exactly. She’s not appropriating and transforming an aspect of the work, but taking all of it and repackaging it as her own.

DO… Ask For Permission

If the poet you’re writing after is contemporary and still alive, check with them prior to publication of the poem.

DON’T… Appropriate others’ stories, especially your peers

Intertextuality gets uncomfortable when it feels like a writer is co-opting another’s story. Says David Orr of the New York Times:

“The great thing about Catullus is not just that he’s raunchy; he’s also dead, along with all the classical poets from whom writers can borrow as liberally as they like without having to worry about copyright law or Twitter drama. Things get much murkier when a contemporary poet starts to sample from his or her peers.”

If you are going to derive inspiration directly in the form of an after-poem, your safest bet to not overstep will always be to write after dead, classical poets.

Dead or alive, when drawing from other poets’ work, make sure that you always substantially change it so you’re not appropriating their story or other personal aspects of their work or life.

DO… Make it a conversation

Intertextuality is all about seeing the ways in which texts “speak to” each other. When writing an after-poem, make sure you’re not just reiterating something. In a roundtable discussion, Jeanne Obbard said:

“After” poems should be in conversation, and mimicry isn’t really a conversation. What is a conversation? Developing your own opinions, pulling from your own bank of images, saying something in your own words.”

Instead of mimicry, ask yourself how you can see your poem as a response to the other, and how you can explore new meanings through juxtaposition.

DO… Ask the hard questions

In the same roundtable cited above, Chen Chen lays out some of the considerations a poet should have when borrowing language, from the aesthetic impacts to the real-world effects:

“… do I need to borrow this form or this language in these ways? Why? What am I adding to the history, the legacy, the larger/longer conversation of these words or ways of saying?… Are there artists, people I would be harming by citing or borrowing from them, in this fashion?”

Like every decision in poetry, using lines, images, or metaphors inspired by other writers must be considered carefully and with an intention to write the best poem you can — in your own voice and style. Ask yourself: do you need to borrow that line? How could it be changed to better fit the “story” of the poem? Can you instead figure out how to use it as “scaffolding” and remove it from the final draft?

Final Thoughts

There’s no excusing plagiarism. But there’s a lot of gray area. The research I did for this article makes me wonder if we need more clarity in the poetry-world as to how to make sure we’re not crossing the line.

Those who are neurodivergent, new to poetry, or self-taught may have more trouble understanding the unspoken norms and rules. Having set standards would also help to ensure there’s no difference in response based on popularity or privilege.

Do you write after poems? What are the rules of thumb you follow?
Let me know in the comments!

Sources & Further Reading: