Blog #33: Patremoir Tweets as Found Poetry

Patremoir of the Week: The Measure of a Man by J.J. Lee

Because I am too lazy to type out each tweet again for this blog, I simply cut and paste the previous week’s tweets from my Twitter site. This means that the blog lists them in reverse order, and the sentences play off each other in an entirely different way. Selecting and tweeting half a dozen sentences from an entire book already has a found poetry element to it, and I find the found poetry element heightened by publishing the sentences in two different media and in two different sequences. Found poetry, when it works, depends heavily on defamiliarization, on calling attention to something by changing the context, and certainly that is what I am doing with the patremoir of the week tweets.


My father’s grave would be dug in a harsh hill where flower stems could be snapped by a single gust.

My father did not wear pocket squares, but he did think of himself as a magician.

Moving in with my father was a terrible mistake.

Throughout my life, my father never gave any hint that he might understand what it was like to be in my place.

For years I denied my father had any influence on me and I fully believed I had created myself.

My father’s suit, compared with the suits he owned in the past, doesn’t deserve the time and effort I am going to put into it.

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