He was near the point of breaking with
a desire to stay relevant. He had no
choice but to gravitate toward the dead.
Upon release of his spirit: a skintight suit.
Crude fool, obscure anti-hero filled to the brim
with insensitivity, he ceased. He was a spastic
backbone. He was a lap worth sitting on.
Source: Student paper on “Deadpool,” written by Chris Fuevrel for my Composition II course
The Book on Fractures III
The child, an anchor for origin, has a breaking
strength comparable to that of medium steel,
able to be bent or twisted and still return
to mature gradually into an adult. In general,
this regenerative phenomenon is a fall from
a severe height, the result of withdrawn
strata. Humans cannot survive farther than
early puberty—that gross, indirect violence—
without skin, without bone, without roots.
Source: Fracture Treatment and Healing, Bruce Heppenstall, 1980
Method: Having recently begun teaching college freshman composition classes, I have been working with student research essays to seek unexpected poems. I find their curiosity and varied, chosen topics create a rich environment for found poetry. I also look to textbooks, current and withdrawn, for a more clinical feel. I generally create a word bank from each source I select, and erase those words as they find their way into my poems.
Katherine Fallon received her MFA from Sarah Lawrence and her chapbook, The Toothmakers’ Daughters, is available through Finishing Line Press. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Colorado Review, Meridian, Permafrost, and others.