The words are already there. All you have to do is find them. The words are lurking, refracted, shredded, retrieved by a miner of meaning, a literary gangster, my good fellow, Mike Maggio, Master of the found poem. Where Maggio rules, he combs. He creates poetic mayhem. He has a genius for extracting meaning from rubble. For finding the Poem lurking on the toothpaste tube, the road sign, in the computer's 0s and 1s. He doesn't write with his computer...
Related Subjects
Poetry