Thursday, August 17, 2006

Mr. Khaitan

a found poem

colored slippers
car parts, and
bloodied flesh

his brother
his son

Mr. Khaitan paused

unlike many
he looked young
with only a few strands
of gray

he held up the cover
of the local paper

his son
and the other children

smiled from within small circles
that would fit in a locket


Found poem rules remain the same: edits only; nothing re-sequenced. Found in a piece that Damien Cave wrote for the New York Times on a bomb blast that recently went off in Iraq.

6 comments:

suttonhoo said...

and stripping out a bunch of words in between ;)

Lolabola* said...

this one is particularly good. I want to try it too now.

suttonhoo said...

very cool -- it's about time this caught on, doggoneit -- I guess I was being too oblique. ;)

can't wait -- I'll be watching.

Lisa Johnson said...

I never understood the rule before either. Cool!

heather lorin said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
heather lorin said...

I'm glad somebody finally asked because I had no idea what a "found" poem was supposed to be. What do you start with - an article from a paper?

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