Having been alerted to the new non-creative approach to writing, I now am seeing bits of 'literature' trapped inside every bit of prose that I read. For instance, here is a 'poem', rescued from a review of a book about leaves I just read in the 7 February 2013 London Review of Books:
Unlike an animal, a leaf
is absolutely stuck
with its lot:
it cannot seek
shade when the sun gets
too hot,
it cannot go in search
of water
when the rains don't come
it cannot run away
from predators.
Poor leaves. I'd never thought of what a rotten time they have till I read that. Which is why I was moved to 'write' a 'poem'. Using someone else's words.
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