He hates poetry?

"Hm. Let me have a listen." I place my stethescope against the poem-hater's breast. "Got a strong rhythm going, so you aren't dead inside. Maybe it's the brain." I slap the back of his head. Hard. "Did you feel that?"

He nods.

"Then what the hell is wrong with you?" I smack the back of his head with my hardcover copy of [insert favorite poet]’s Complete Poems. “After the pain subsides, read [insert favorite poem]. If you still don't feel a thing, I suggest you see a specialist because nobody should have to live with a numb heart and mind."