There's something elegant about found poetry. It's the art of redaction or even the art in redaction if you want. The preposition is up to you. Creating found poetry is unlike writing and more sculpture. The artist removes bits and pieces here and there, a chunk off of the side, perhaps, to reveal something new that was at the same time, there all along.
In a way, it is also an act of vandalism. Graffiti. The first writer labored over the creation of the piece. A labor of love? Hate? Is there a difference to a writer? Regardless, the creation was his, and it was as perfect as he knew how to make it. Then, along comes this vandal, this Visigoth of Words who makes his gleeful mark on the original. Changing it, making something new and ofttimes no less beautiful or beloved.
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