A book-spine poem

A couple of weeks ago, Chris, at Calmgrove, introduced me to another variation on the found poem form. I’ve failed to discover when and where this originated, but did see a lot of interesting examples and challenges around the web, stretching all the way back to 2012!

Unable to resist joining in, I’ve cherry-picked a few volumes from my shelves. My version is a prose-poem.

A World of My Own.

Diary of an ordinary woman, in search of Schrodinger’s cat. Along that country road, footsteps. A view of the harbour, the probable future.

No signposts in the sea. True at first light, wild swimming in the sweep of the bay, familiar passions. The waves, a far cry from Kensington..

Coming up for air, in the heart of the sea, a reckoning. The sealwoman’s gift, ways of seeing room at the top, far from the madding crowd. A woman’s life? Travels in the scriptorium.
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