When a title really works, it enlarges what's important.
My last two books have consisted entirely of poems with no individual titles. This felt like the right decision in each case; I want the poems in the manuscript I just finished, for example, to be read as a running internal monologue (the speaker, Judy, is a character I borrowed from a play). Titles would be interruptive to this experience, and overly aggrandizing — Judy wouldn’t frame her own thoughts that way. But as a result, I worry I’m forgetting how to title things. I worry I’m becoming a critic who can judge good titles from bad but cannot produce good titles herself. Take the title of this essay: a semi-ironic gimmick. It could be in scare quotes.
What are titles supposed to do, exactly? More… “Title TK”