Earlier this week I accidentally made a blackout poem on some food packaging on its way to the recycling.
I'll be the first to admit—it's not the greatest poem ever written, but there's something about that couplet: "a week in Scotland, buttered brown and soured" . . . makes me smile. Maybe there’s poetry in everything if we look hard enough?
I enjoy making stuff from things that would otherwise end up in the bin, so I think I’ll try a few more—make a series perhaps? I like the fact that by its nature, the source material will be
limited (lots of ingredients and legal bla bla), but it might be interesting to see what emerges. Will the poems manage to find new meaning in the words and hide their origin, or will I just end
up with a bunch of food related nonsense? Only one way to find out, I guess.
I appreciate that this is hardly a new idea. I first encountered blackout poetry during Art Foundation, when we were introduced to "A Humument" by Tom Phillips, which prompted everyone to rush to the nearest charity shop to buy a book
to blackout. I think I managed three pages before giving up. Hopefully, I'll get further this time. (Three to beat!) More recently, I saw Austin Kleon's Newspaper Poems and discovered that blackout poetry appears to be a
bit of a thing these days. But hey, if all the kids are doing it, why not have a go?
If anybody out there feels like joining me in this experiment, it would be great to see what you come up with.
Thanks for reading. Don't forget to keep making stuff — even if it is by accident!
Cheers, Dave
