Classmate Response 1, Week 4

To Kyley's Calisthenic, "The Cat." 



Since we both posted the same thing so closely to each other you will be my first victim for Week 4.


I like how you decided to take this litany in another direction than the rest of us. While the rest of us are focusing on Ginsberg-esque rants, you decide to develop your own individual path and I like that. I like that you used the list to describe a cat. I also like the focus on the cat's claws and teeth. 


Also, I'd like to say one of my favorite lines is "Why must you be so cruel to your overseer?" While I think the line is wordy it uses great connotation to create an interesting concept. The overseer is tied with the watchful figure in slavery. And yet, the speaker describes his/herself as the overseer--being treated cruelly. 


I think perhaps the biggest fault I find with this piece is that the lines need tightening. You have good bits of imagery here that seem to be ruined by over-description. This might seem odd in contrast to my recent rant of description, but I love the specificity in the first line of "my shin." It's a refreshing choice in comparison to "my leg."


Still, consider condensing. The second line seems to carry some redundancy. "Your claws of tyranny dominate your surroundings." I see what you were trying to get at with tyranny and dominance but they seem too similar. Also, do you think the line would work as well without "your surroundings?" I believe that the surroundings are implied under the tyranny. 


You have some interesting lines in here that seem somewhat shorter and contrast with the long, descriptive lines. I would suggest playing on that more as well. Once again, hoping this helps. 

Calisthenic 1, Week 4

This is basically the litany piece Tim was asking for, as well as what I've written for Davidson's competitive assignment. I'm actually on a title fart lately. If you guys have any ideas, please do suggest them along with any critique of course. For now i'll call it


Ho-Hos and Ding Dongs

Ronald McDonald, you pedophile, 

with your wide red lips and empty lap.

You defiler of childish ease. You clown.

Why is your food so good?

Your Big Macs so stacked,

Your french fries so golden?

And what about the Arch nemesis,

with his flame-broiled slabs

of quarter-pound goodness,

sandwiched between two sesame buns.

I’d have my buns my way--

Like garbage bags I'd have them Hefty.

Like a QuikTrip slush I want me large.

When did we become so obsessed 

with pounds?

I thought we left the British in 1776.

Skinny bitch, eat a twinkie.  Anna Mae,

eat the cake.

I wanna indulge the Cheerio, 

I don’t want to wear it. Hula Hoop

it. And don’t tell me you don’t mind

the weight, that its all about personality.

Next time I’ll wear personality

to the grocery store and we’ll see 

how much you like that.

Ronald, I thought you loved kids.

There’s a billboard on Hwy 5,

telling plump kids that fat

sucks the fun out of childhood.

You know what sucks the fun 

out of childhood? School desks,

pressed as pumpernickel

in a chair attached to the plastic top.

Cafeteria lunches. Recess line up

to pick tag football teams.

Kids should spend 60 minutes outside daily.

The last time I spent an hour outside

I was dining on the patio 

at Tony’s Mexican Grill.

Ronald, why do you keep telling me

to exercise? I don’t get high 

on running. I can’t see my feet. 

I’m handicapped.

Would you ask Tiny Tim 

to run a 5k marathon? 

I do enough running from teen years, mirrors

and I never liked Ms. Piggy. I am

no athlete.  I’m a food connoisseur.  

I sample snacks since shopping

is reserved for zeroes and maybe size threes.

I wear my clothes Wal-Mart sharp. 

My style assistant is a man named Lane. Mr. Bryant

gives me push-up bras in the hopes

I get a man longing for some cushion pushing.

We hate thongs. Do you know what those are?

Ass floss. Dental care for my biggest cavity.

That doesn’t mean I can’t be fashionable.

I’ve got role models to give me pointers:

Roseanne and Oprah in her purple days.

Weight Watchers, you killed Jennifer Hudson’s

underside. Where did you hide all that evidence?

I remember her before she’d been dismembered.

and now I see her on magazine covers.

I wanna see me in Marie Claire, Cosmopolitan.

I want a two-page spread in Cover Girl.

I wanna strut my ass in Levi jeans.

My hips hear music, my thighs groove.

I want a goddammned perfume ad.

I sweat. I stink. I spend half an hour

scrubbing hard deodorant stains

out of worn white tees.

Don’t tell me men find my phero-funk sexy.

I won’t accept that jive. I wanna rock

to the melodies for Fat Bottomed Girls.

Ronald, when did X-X-X stop meaning sex,

appealing and explicit. When did it need the “L”?

Women with curves used to be Renaissance.

In my bed I’m Venus of Urbino.

My hips are semi-sweet Snocaps.

I am a continuous plane.

I'm 1.4 million pounds of 

Jared's nightmare. I'm Ben and Jerry's dream.

Ronald,  I have a need to self-satisfy.

Ronald, I get hungry sometimes.

Ronald, do children climb into your lap

and if they sit for a while and cut off

the rush of life to your toes,

make your knees buckle under pressure,

Ronald, what do you do? Push them?

Do you grimace? Laugh?

Ronald do you diet them?

Or do you pat their heads, hand them a McChicken,

and wide-mouth, red lip, ear-to-ear smile?

Junkyard Quote 2, Week 4

"Dismember and Remember." We're discussing Hope Leslie in my Lit. class and one of the ideas we went over is that one of the characters were dismembered in her fight for justice. The opposite for dismember is "remember" and how the heroine was "re"membered when she gained an extra burden. It made more sense in class.