Ghost Dance Song of the Kiowa

The Father will descend,
The earth will tremble.
Everybody will arise,
Stretch out your hands.

Found Poetry: The Campground Edition 15

The poem we call, 15.

From time to time we come across street poetry. Found poetry. We have discovered street poetry in Florence, Italy, on the streets of New York City during Occupy Wall Street and in the Pilsen neighborhood of Chicago. 

We have also stumbled upon found poetry by re-reading public service announcements in a different vein, as happened along the "L" in Chicago, an intersection in St. Petersburg, Florida and now in a campground in Arizona.

A Bungalow on Mazatlan

She knows to steal
A glance as she
Walks by a mirror
She'll cross
Her legs
In polite company
And kiss you
Goodnight
In the morning

Poet Gone: An Elegy for Gord Downie

Gord Downie 1964-2017

I drown my sorrows
in an empty glass

Wiping up memories
with a spastic cloth

Dancing with the
shadows of ghosts

As 1990 You
bounce off the walls