I felt guilty for getting so little done on this project last week, so I did a few more tonight. Charles Scribner III I am not.
And now that I’ve read the first page of the actual book, I suddenly doubt my ability to ‘find’ poetry in Gatsby. It is possible there was already some poetry in there.
Barely through the introduction and already the lines are tangled.
Also this poetry is crap. Presumably it will get better when we get into Fitzgerald’s prose.
Only one page in a week? This is going to drag on for awhile.
Is this an invocation? Who (or what) is it meant to invoke?
According to Wikipedia, Saudade is “a word in Portuguese and Galician (from which it entered Spanish) that claims no direct translation in English. It describes a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never return.” Until recently I didn’t know that this feeling – that ghosts can haunt one’s future as readily as the past – had a name. This feeling has been my constant companion for as long as I can remember. In typical fashion, every time I become inspired I invent a new art or writing project for myself, because I need more projects in my life. 😛 A fortuitous encounter with an Alaska Airlines cocktail napkin has reawakened my interest in found poetry. So here’s the project: I’ll read a book and rip each page out as I finish it. Then I’ll turn the page into a piece of found poetry along the theme of Saudade. (I reserve the right to loosen my grip on the theme from time to time). I’ll post the finished pages here once a week. Sound good? Here’s the book: 
Chronicler's Note: 