As I write this, it's the last day of National Poetry Month. And it's been a good one here in Worcester, filled with packed readings and events at venues as disparate as the Worcester Public Library and Nick's Bar and Restaurant. Academic poets, slam poets, urban poets, suburban poets, young poets, old poets and even a few dead poets � the city was alive with their words.

Mind, that's not terribly different than any other week in Worcester. Things wax and wane, but poetry has an enormous presence here. But one thing it doesn't have is a poet laureate. The last one the city has was the renowned Gertrude Halstead, who passed away in 2012.

Halstead was an excellent writer, whose icicle-delicate writing was breathtaking in its beauty. She was also an amazing person: A Holocaust survivor who was a tireless champion of social justice. She was smart, kind and had an aura of authority that could turn the most confident person into a nervous schoolboy. I wouldn't envy anyone following in her wake. She was, in a word, unique. No one should ever try to be her. They would only fail.

But does Worcester still need a poet laureate? The title has remained unclaimed since Halstead's death, with no one making any move to revive the position.

This thought comes as Boston's poet laureate, Sam Cornish, is retiring from his post, and that city has begun an active search for his replacement, Last week, an article on BDCwire nominated Cambridge resident Simone Beaubien, an outstanding writer who has not only steered the Boston Poetry Slam, located at the Cantab Lounge in Cambridge, for more than a decade, but has also brought the annual National Poetry Slam Finals to the Boston area twice � each being among the competition's most successful years.

Beaubien was quick to quash any nomination because, as a Cambridge resident, she doesn't feel she qualifies. But that wasn't her only issue.

"What's most difficult for me to wrap my head around is the mission of the poet laureate," says Beaubien. "Essentially, the position is a political one before it is an artistic one. This is not to say that it isn't beneficial for both a city and the genre of poetry, but it does mean that a poet's own individual ideas � about artistic merit, language, genre, and which poem one might like to enjoy with a drink at a bar or with a blanket on the couch � get steamrolled into a kind of open-mic-host niceness that has to uplift and advocate for the whole genre before adding much in the way of constructive criticism. I've been hosting an open mic for a decade, not to mention serving as the face of the National Poetry Slam for two years, and I make a lot of positive noises about poetry because I genuinely think that so many more people could be enjoying it. But someday I'd like to get on the radio and say that I think a poem sucks without feeling like I'm dropping a match in my own barn. It kind of makes me want Sam Cornish to write some really ripping criticism once he leaves the office."

All of which raises the question: What does a poet laureate do? In England, it's clear cut: The poet laureate writes poems for royal occasions and such, as well as overseeing some poetic projects. Here in the U.S., it's more free-form. The national poet laureate usually embarks on a large educational program, such as former laureate Robert Pinsky's "Favorite Poem Project," which recorded people reading their favorite pieces of verse. Of course, other laureates have simply taken the honor and the publicity, and not done much of anything. Worcester native Stanley Kunitz, who was appointed in both 1974 and 2000, was 95 the second time around, and while he still got around and did readings, it was clear he wasn't shooting for any great undertaking. (The position, then called the consultant in poetry to the Library of Congress, was fundamentally different the first time Kunitz held the job.)

Similarly, Halstead was 91 when she was honored, and clearly, it was an act of honoring a magnificent person for their contributions to the city, not of creating a permanent position. But would Worcester benefit from the job being continued?

"I think having one is good for a city," says Worcester poet Jenith Charpentier, "that it speaks to a city's belief that arts are important."

Charpentier has a few ideas of what a poet laureate would do, including writing or selecting poems for events, setting up city-sponsored events and acting as a liaison between the poetry community and the city, schools and public for poetic opportunities.

Other local poets aren't so sure, or are indifferent to the concept. Some, though, such as Worcester-turned-Boston-area poet Dawn Gabriel, think a laureate could have a place in a city.

"I believe being a poet laureate is much, much more than composing a sonnet for the opening of the new landfill, or reading a special poem when the mayor is inaugurated," says Gabriel. "You need to be able to reach out to the wider community, share the LOVE of poetry, all poetry, and not just read your own stuff at civic events. You need to foster the wider literary scene, work with underserved populations and show up for the word all the time."

There are poets in Worcester who reach out to schools already, and some who do work in poorer communities. There are rebels and academics and everything in between here. Is there room for a laureate? Is it needed? I don't know, but maybe it's time to have that conversation again. (Victor D. Infante)