Tonight is the Season Finale of Lost. In honor of that, I want to post a poem from my thesis. It’s a “found” poem. A found poem consists of lines taken from disparate texts, like newspapers and magazines, and assembled into new meaning. It’s a lot like collage. One might argue that all poetry is found—what, after all, is truly original? Isn’t every phrase borrowed? I composed this poem lifting comments written by members of an online Lost fan forum. By selecting comments, ordering them, and imposing line breaks, I created poetry.
I learned about found poetry from this woman. Thanks, Susan.
Lost: A Found Poem
The island manipulates people to choose
to stay. Maybe one part of his mind wanted the medicine
and another part sabotaged him. The monster
is in their heads. It is my theory
that the pears are a clue but there are more
parallels here than even I can begin to quote.
The crash happened. We may never see or hear
of aliens or Apollo but distant healing ties
into the whole Quantum Hologram.
They kissed? These fields have been created over time
using a different “true north”–I spent two insomnia induced nights
thinking about this very subject, I have my fingers
crossed. Are the Others even a specific group?
Traveling great distances is as simple a matter as walking
through a portal: say this about the rain. Understand
changing inertial planes will not cheat omniscience.
(Charlie, hang in there!)