Genre Reflection #2

My CT assigned her class to write "found poetry" this week. This activity consists of opening a book randomly and connecting words to make a poem based on a pre-determined theme. I decided to do one for my genre reflection. I cheated, and added two words. If you can't read it, that's understandable, I typed out a copy below. Shout outs to Walt Whitman.

The fluid movement of the population,

Unconquerable and simple,

And the hands to protect it,

He incarnates its geography and natural life and rivers and lakes,

For the expression of the American,

Is to be transcendent and new.

The Teacher.

He is their referee,

He spans between them,

and reflects what is between them.

On him rise solid growths,

That offset the growths of - 

hemlock, and locusts.

Tangles as tangled as any forest.

He is the arbiter of the diverse and he is the key,

He is the equalizer.

If the time becomes slothful and heavy he knows how to arouse it,

He can make every word he speaks draw blood.

Always calm.

He grows men and women.

He is no arguer, he is judgement.

As he sees the farthest,

He has the most faith.

He sees eternity in men and women.

He does not see men and women,

as dreams,

 or dots.