Page 52: Impounding the Overflow

I think it was during National Book Week that people on facebook used to post, say, the 3rd sentence on page 52 of whatever book was closest at hand. This is a found poem from 2012, cobbled together from a bunch of those sentences.

 

IMPOUNDING THE OVERFLOW

1.

Methanogens, red paper hearts, 

white paper lace, cartoon cupids, 

grey seals, are archaea. 

The central brainstem stands up

like a fist on an arm, renowned 

for many haul-out sites

over and around it, 

dominating it both physically and mentally..

Every computer fits easily on the page

by impounding the overflow 

from the spring into a reservoir.

Besides being a theological dilemma, 

it is also a judicial one–

think about it critically.

I think it was this line of reasoning 

that roused me or maybe 

it was my desperation that made 

me unconsciously pound the door 

with the back of my head.

That was, ‘I love you.’

2.

Obtain title to “desert land” 

by irrigating twenty acres.

As you begin, understand 

that the Indians’ new homes 

are ‘settled, fixed, and permanent.’

as a product of their metabolism. 

Lounge in the sun and enjoy 

the abundance of fish

Consider the Indians friends and neighbors. 

Produce the flammable, odorless 

gas methane. Explore flash 

content on other webs.

Go to sleep now like a good child.

3.

Cooper treads through the darkness, 

enters the tent, and is asleep instantly.

NOTES FROM A ROAD TRIP: found, mostly, in my notebook

NOTES FROM A ROAD TRIP, August 19-23, 2017

1.

Nomads: I’ve seen them in a movie,

taking down their ger.

Everything goes with them:

the stove, the rugs and beds,

the painted chests. Maybe

if we took it all, too,

like those people with bus-sized RVs do.

But home would still be home.

 

2.

The sun comes up later in the south

and it’s hotter. Every time we take

a long car trip we say,

“Next time, let’s stay home.”

(Is this a poem?)

 

The world’s worst coffee—is it

even coffee?—from the weird

machine in the hotel room.

Must constipation—or worse—

go with travel?

Why in the world did I sit

cross-legged for three hours

in the backseat of the car?

At least I got some knitting done.

 

3.

Crepe myrtle is in bloom, and cotton.

This is the farthest south I’ve been in a car.

Today is the eeclipse, 96 percent

here. The place we were headed

will be 100% clouds so here we stay.

I’m just as glad. Who needs

another six hours in the car?

 

4.

And now we’re home.

I lost two days of daily poems,

and gained a fearsome sciatica,

richly deserved. I reduced

the eeclipse to prose.

I’m still too close to write a poem.

Home is still here, with its overgrown

garden, and dog happy to see us

and cats as happy as cats ever are.

The moon, still dark,

still orbits us, and we still

turn around the sun,

and turn around again.

READING IN BED: a found poem

READING IN BED

Found in Longmans’ English Grammar, 1917

My name is Norval.

Learning to row is pleasant.

Every turf beneath their feet shall be a soldier’s sepulchre.

 

A little ship was on the sea.

The ship being strong withstood the storm.

Fearing the storm, we returned.

 

Peters the baker makes bread.

Robinson the tailor sells cloths.

The man to see is Robinson.

 

Tom’s father was Dick’s son.

The old man is tired.

Seeming learned is his one accomplishment.

 

The house on the hill is Mr. Bosworth’s.

To play the piano was his delight.

To be thought original was his chief aim.

 

The lady on horseback is Mrs. Bosworth.

Her being considered beautiful has been her pride

Her uncle is in India.

 

The woman being in great trouble was weeping.

Teaching lazy children is hard work.

The path of duty is the way to glory.

 

The really good are few.

To be good is to be happy.

Reading in bed is bad for the eyes.

THE DIARIES OF ELLA WARNER FISHER

Here is the last of the Sheldon Museum poems. This is a “found” poem made up of entries from the diary of Mrs. Fisher, a Vermont poet who lived from 1853-1937. I’ve been reading and blogging her diaries for years. Most of the diaries are in the archive at the Sheldon.

 

THE DIARIES OF ELLA WARNER FISHER

Mop, mend, make pies, bathe the children.

A burden to be unequally yoked.

Dig up a lily and plant it in the yard.

Every day subject to the same blight.

A beautiful day, long to be remembered.

Gertrude has mumps.  Mop and mend.

Henry cleans harness in the kitchen.

All attend service but Helen and Grace.

War bread, two meatless meals.

Anna & Henrietta go to the woods for flowers.

Tuttle takes down the stove.

Mend the stockings.  Make mince pies.

Henry carries Grace to her school.

Terrible fighting in France.

Gingham comes for Henrietta.

Ruth and I kill and dress two hens.

Dreaming among my poems.

Letters from Ashton and Helen.

Sick headache.  Go down street.

Anna receives a silver spoon.

A hateful wind blowing.

My boy, my poor boy!

They of the few, the tried and true.

Benjamin and Tuttle bring the body home.

Rain.  The white washing piled in chairs,

stark as so many ghosts.

NOMINATIVE CASE: a found poem

 

Longmans’ English Grammar, now 100 years old, is fabulous, especially the examples. Here are a few:

 

NOMINATIVE CASE

found in Longmans’ English Grammar, 1917

Exult, ye proud patricians.

Tom’s brother will come tomorrow.

Highest queen of state, great Juno comes.

Was the garden gate closed just now?

 

The Hudson is a beautiful river.

Put on they strength, O Zion!

Have those new houses been let already?

Pretty flowers grow in my garden.

 

The tall trees are shaking in the wind.

The golden corn was waving in the sun.

The great bell is tolling slowly.

Art thou he that should come?

 

Is the little child sleeping?

Have you been waiting long?

It was the lark, the herald of the morn.

O night and darkness, ye are wondrous strong.

 

Old King Cole was a merry old soul.

The hunters killed Bruin, the bear.

Art thou that traitor angel?

We have been friends for many years.

 

The careless girl was looking off her book.

I hope that I shall be a scholar some day.

I am going to Chicago next week.

I’m to be queen of the May.

ABSTRACTING

Found in Longman’s English Grammar, 1917

This paper is smooth and white;

in other words it has the qualities

of smoothness and whiteness.

The smoothness and whiteness 

cannot be separted from the paper,

but in our own minds we can think of them

as something apart.

 

Again, running

is an action, but the running cannot be

separated from the runner. It is only

in our minds that we can think of it as

something apart.

So slavery

is a state or condition that cannot

be separated from the slave, but that can

be thought of as something apart.

This drawing away

with our minds the quality from the thing

which has it, the action from the thing

which does it, or the condition from the thing

which is in it, is called abstracting. 

Now,

Pick out the abstract nouns.  

The room is twenty feet in length.

Lazy people take most trouble.

The driver behaved with cruelty.

The beauty of the scene gave us much pleasure.

A little learning is a dangerous thing.

A little weeping would ease my heart.

The quality of mercy is not strained.

There was darkness over all.

Honesty is the best policy.

The sun gives warmth.

Virtue is its own reward.

Charity covers a multitude of sins.

Wisdom is better than strength.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.

PAGE 56, 2017

With thanks to contributors. You know who you are:

 

PAGE 56, 2017

 

The temperature was dropping

and a light snow was falling.

Even the sky above the City

had a green tint,

and the rays of the sun were green.

It had, however, but a bare

and uninteresting church,

built in the latest and worst

period of Perpendicular,

with a slate spire and no bells to speak of.

 

The Manichee, therefore, was entirely

embedded in the visible world.

To the new generations of country

and village boys now pouring into

the university in such large numbers,

she had become, in a curious way,

an instructor in manners,–what is called

an ‘influence.’ A lady doctor dressed

in silks was an oddity, and Oscar

Maroney’s curiosity, once engaged,

had to be satisfied.

 

They asked her where she was

making for, and she answered: “You are come

to the very edge of the Wild, as some

of you may know. ….Because it is not ‘engaged’,

the Faith becomes vacuous. In the strict sense,

however, the term historical

criticism refers to the ways in which

a historian might use the New Testament

to learn about history.”

 

Italics signify the couple of little tweaks I made.