On the poetry day course I did a week ago, one of the exercises was to compose a found poem. This was by cutting random lines out of a magazine and assembling them into a poem. You get some really abstract results. Here’s one.
Loud (a found poem)
Loud and exhilarating,
There was a space,
The right time.
Communal effort,
Throaty roar.
Be modest,
A swagger really.
Communion morphed.
It had that old seventies feel.
Everybody heard it,
Treading water.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, August 7, 2021
There was a space,
The right time.
Communal effort,
Throaty roar.
Be modest,
A swagger really.
Communion morphed.
It had that old seventies feel.
Everybody heard it,
Treading water.
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