To Make A Dadist Poem Take a newspaper. Take some scissors. Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem. Cut out the article. Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag. Shake gently. Next take out each cutting one after the other. Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag. The poem will resemble you. And there you are—an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd. Tristan Tzara W H A T. Y O U.  C A N.  M A K E.  W I T H.  N E W S P A P E R S. art as product an installation bubble babble you have an unusually magnetic personality ethic keep on charging the enemy Michael Brod, 2009. More at The Outlaw Poetry Network » Tristan Tzara “Note on Poetry” The poet of the last station no longer weeps in vain lamenting would slow down his gait. Humidity of ages past. Those who feed on tears are happy and heavy they slip them on to deceive the snakes behind the necklaces of their souls. The poet can devote himself to calisthenics. But to obtain abundance and explosion, he knows how to set hope afire TODAY. p. 305 MANIFESTO: A Century of isms. Edited by Mary Ann Caws.
To Make A Dadist Poem
Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.
Shake gently.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
The poem will resemble you.
And there you are—an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd.

Tristan Tzara

W H A T. Y O U.  C A N.  M A K E.  W I T H.  N E W S P A P E R S.

art as product
an installation
bubble babble

you have an unusually
magnetic personality
ethic

keep on charging
the enemy

Michael Brod, 2009. More at The Outlaw Poetry Network »

Tristan Tzara “Note on Poetry”

The poet of the last station no longer weeps in vain lamenting would slow down his gait. Humidity of ages past. Those who feed on tears are happy and heavy they slip them on to deceive the snakes behind the necklaces of their souls. The poet can devote himself to calisthenics. But to obtain abundance and explosion, he knows how to set hope afire TODAY.

p. 305 MANIFESTO: A Century of isms. Edited by Mary Ann Caws.