Once in awhile I like to hit scan and go through the channels on the AM radio. I write down phrases or words that I hear before it zips to the next station, and these will form a found poem. Here is one from a few years ago I just found in a journal:

What these men are:
An absolute disaster,
Already worthless,
You gotta be celebrating,
One would hope,
Unbelievable.
As you approach,
I couldn’t even speak.
This has parts that,
In the conversation,
I really don’t know
If I’m ready for help.