TBAP: WFM

WFM: Allergic to Pine-Sol, Am I the Only One – Melissa Barrett

What do you think of found poems, or puzzle poems, or collages? Are they art? Are they poetry? Is it an act of creation to paste together disparate pieces into a new whole? I have this question about mash-ups, and remixes, and remakes, and cover bands. I don’t think of them as acts of creation, but acts of re-creation.

There are certainly skills necessary here. You have to make something new from the scraps. You have to manage tension and rising action and say something meaningful using these found objects.

Reading this poem I am interested in distance, particularly the distance between people. It starts off with people far apart, and then there is a tie that will be given as a present, right now it is far away, wrapped. Then you must be able to be seen in public with me. Then we were behind each other at a drive through. Then we made love. Then we were at the shooting range. Then there is rope. Things are knotted together at the end, passionate, violent, intertwined.

Perhaps these found pieces are all us. Perhaps we are all recycled, particularly once we are looking at personals on Craigslist. And maybe we could all do with some connecting, some reaching out, and some being tied up, together.

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