Found Poetry(Jem Finch)

Found poetry
Jem Finch
Nearly thirteen, Jem broke his
Elbow, being able to play foot ball, he
Was seldom self-conscious about it,
Left arm shorter than right,
Thumb parallel to his high, he
Did not care as long as he could pass and punt.

“Mad dog’s coming!”
Jem stayed in the house, watching
Through the windows.
Tim Johnson arrived at snail’s pace.
Atticus’s hand yanked and the rifle cracked,
Tim Johnson leaped, flopped on the sidewalk,
“I wanna be like Atticus, a gentleman!”

Jem was scarlet, he
Broke the bonds of “a gentleman”
He snatched the baton and
Ran flailing wildly up the steps, not
Calming down after he cut every single,
Camellia bush, and afterwards, bent my baton and broke it in two.

“He’s got a bump on his head, and
A broken arm, like somebody tried to
Wring his elbow.
He’ll be as good as new, boys
Always bounce at his age”
Jem was not dead.