The other night a woman needed to find all these different types of poems and analyze them. I hate that one, because there's not a "Here Are All the Types of Poems, Easy to Read, in One Neat Book" book and everyone from elementary school kids to adult night school students gets assigned this one. I take her to the stacks, only to discover that our poetry section is suddenly very depleted. As I'm trying to find something suitable for her, Methadone Man, who's sitting at a nearby table, suddenly bursts out with "Do you like to write poetry?" She looks at him, startled, and he starts rambling on about how he found this (pulls out crumpled piece of paper) upstairs. (He's always collecting up bits of paper, including library flyers and stuffing them in his bags, pulling them out, "sorting" them on the floor or all over a table, making mess, getting in the way...). This one appears to be a flyer I've never seen before for a poetry contest. He starts to explain about the contest as the woman looks at him, still startled and probably rather scared. Finally, since he's not shutting up despite getting no response, I tell him that she's doing homework. He says oh and then looks in his bag for something that will "help" her but apparently he "only has Milton" in there. I get back to showing her the few anthologies left on the shelf and then suggest that she search for the exact poem types she needs online to find some. I must say, I was rather amazed by her fortitude, she stayed at the shelf for quite some time after I went back to the desk, despite the presence of MM. There's a dedicated student for you.