Windex
And that was when I realized
that I really fucked up this time.
when the windex bottle beat
a blue stain into the Berber carpet
and I was left standing wide-mouthed
in an open-mouthed doorway.
That long hall never seemed so short.
That fuming man never seemed so tall
and that was when I realized that what I did
I never really remembered anyway.
How quickly did my mistakes,
or lack thereof,
transcend through the contents
of that plastic cleaning bottle?
When did it explode
onto the scene and leave a trail
of Oh-My-Gods or
You-Fucking-Bitch's that I was quite prepared for?
Did I ever really know how to duck
the verbal abrasions like I learned
how to dodge that bottle?
Or did the bottle dodge me?
Maybe if it had hit me
I would have become clean
and without streaks I could have glistened
into a transparent pane
on a rectangular plane.
Why couldn't I disappear?
Why couldn't the words hit me
and bounce off like birds?
They left smears, greasy trails
of You-Dirty-Little-Whores
and Get-The-Hell-Outta-My-Sight's.
and as I slammed my door shut
to FD&C Blue No. 1
daddy's little girl turned blue too
and with my eyes closed
I couldn't see the glass fragments
of my insides shatter anymore.
Thursday, October 13
Junkyard Quote 3-4, Week 7
"Proper for a Black girl."
"There's this polka-dotty napkin I like, but this one dog pukey-dutied his lunch on it."
"There's this polka-dotty napkin I like, but this one dog pukey-dutied his lunch on it."
Classmate Response 2, Week 7
To Samaria's freewrite, week 7:
I love those "s" sounds you're manipulating in this piece. Though the meaning of certain lines get muddled, the "s" sound moves this piece along without there even having to be a reason. The repetition of "yes" really bogs that word down, much like the speaker is bogged down by his/her usage of the word "yes."
I like the use of outlandish questions. Can I eat your favorite tee-shirt, of course, being my personal favorite.
I wish you would continue the "no's like boomerangs" image. And I'm unfamiliar with D-Rose, but that doesn't mean you should change that part unless that is something that might not be widely known?
By the time the piece hits, "How else can I understand..." I as the reader begin to become confused with what is being communicated. I can no longer see images or understand conversation and I'm wondering if there was an attempt to mix words around in this section that there was with the krispy kreme donut and the shirt. It's hard to because as a reader I am not tapped into the speaker's train of thought.
I feel like there could be more to the piece. Perhaps some scene to illustrate the yes/no issue. Maybe even some type of conflict--though nothing dramatic of course.
I'm tossing between the last line. I love the completion the last "s" in chest gives, but I feel there was a jump to getting to that line that the piece was not ready for, otherwise it seems heavy and unattached. How can we manage that leap from dreams to what I'm assuming, is the inconvenience of the heart? Hope this helps.
I love those "s" sounds you're manipulating in this piece. Though the meaning of certain lines get muddled, the "s" sound moves this piece along without there even having to be a reason. The repetition of "yes" really bogs that word down, much like the speaker is bogged down by his/her usage of the word "yes."
I like the use of outlandish questions. Can I eat your favorite tee-shirt, of course, being my personal favorite.
I wish you would continue the "no's like boomerangs" image. And I'm unfamiliar with D-Rose, but that doesn't mean you should change that part unless that is something that might not be widely known?
By the time the piece hits, "How else can I understand..." I as the reader begin to become confused with what is being communicated. I can no longer see images or understand conversation and I'm wondering if there was an attempt to mix words around in this section that there was with the krispy kreme donut and the shirt. It's hard to because as a reader I am not tapped into the speaker's train of thought.
I feel like there could be more to the piece. Perhaps some scene to illustrate the yes/no issue. Maybe even some type of conflict--though nothing dramatic of course.
I'm tossing between the last line. I love the completion the last "s" in chest gives, but I feel there was a jump to getting to that line that the piece was not ready for, otherwise it seems heavy and unattached. How can we manage that leap from dreams to what I'm assuming, is the inconvenience of the heart? Hope this helps.
Improv 1, Week 7
Improv-ing the coupled lines of Albert Goldbarth's 2,700 Miles. Giving myself a 10-12-syllable requirement. I didn't particularly like this one.
Frisky and Whizz
My sister and I had owned a hamster
before, but it lost its breath in an ooze of blood.
So to cease the sentiments for the dead,
we decided that an upgrade was logical.
These two replacements rattled in boxes
and we peeped through holes to see them scamper inside.
They curled, like round balls of golden cotton
and there eyes gleamed like painted globes in the dark.
I opened one box, and a nose peeked up
that rattled in a tempo for salsa dancing.
And two pairs of eyes stared at each other.
And a golden puddle grew under hamster cheeks.
And I closed the box in fear of the smell
of hamster puddles, and a creature now dubbed Whizz.
Which was better off than my sister's pet,
who took the more rabid approach and bit at
her fingers. The same fingers that released
Frisky the hamster, as he soon came to be known
into the rainy grasses of the wild,
the day he turned up nesting beside the baby
who was still learning to roll off his back
and its mother let out those screams those mothers do.
and my sister and I, hands full of soft
twitching hamster bodies sank into the bushes
and our nose made snuffling noises
as we bid our goodbyes to the escape artists
who would never see a cage again.
Frisky and Whizz
My sister and I had owned a hamster
before, but it lost its breath in an ooze of blood.
So to cease the sentiments for the dead,
we decided that an upgrade was logical.
These two replacements rattled in boxes
and we peeped through holes to see them scamper inside.
They curled, like round balls of golden cotton
and there eyes gleamed like painted globes in the dark.
I opened one box, and a nose peeked up
that rattled in a tempo for salsa dancing.
And two pairs of eyes stared at each other.
And a golden puddle grew under hamster cheeks.
And I closed the box in fear of the smell
of hamster puddles, and a creature now dubbed Whizz.
Which was better off than my sister's pet,
who took the more rabid approach and bit at
her fingers. The same fingers that released
Frisky the hamster, as he soon came to be known
into the rainy grasses of the wild,
the day he turned up nesting beside the baby
who was still learning to roll off his back
and its mother let out those screams those mothers do.
and my sister and I, hands full of soft
twitching hamster bodies sank into the bushes
and our nose made snuffling noises
as we bid our goodbyes to the escape artists
who would never see a cage again.
Classmate Response 1, Week 7
In response to Dawn's Calisthenic, Week 7:
You're right, it is pretty interesting to see just how different a take we took on this assignment, as well as to see the steps we took to get there. What I also find intriguing are the lines both you and I chose to keep, like: even a fool like me can see your broken beauty. That probably speaks most significantly about the strength of these particular lines and images, as well as for its versatility.
Before I move onto the things with substance, in your second line you put "you're." I think you meant "your." Now moving along.
I love the fifth line and the repetition of that great "p" sounds. Some of the lines play more as imagery than actual logic and creates some weird phrases, like "You fake Egyptians" I have a slight issue with the cohesiveness of the 6th and 7th line. To say "you" liquefy men and then to describe him as cake--which is not very liquid is difficult to understand and liquid is a little redundant, but I like the idea of having a list there.
I like the phrase "sexing ash and nylon."
The first line of the last stanza is a little syllabic.
You have some really alluring images here and I love the intenseness of some of these images, paralleled with the intenseness of the ending. You're right though, it's so cool to see what can happen from this calisthenic.
You're right, it is pretty interesting to see just how different a take we took on this assignment, as well as to see the steps we took to get there. What I also find intriguing are the lines both you and I chose to keep, like: even a fool like me can see your broken beauty. That probably speaks most significantly about the strength of these particular lines and images, as well as for its versatility.
Before I move onto the things with substance, in your second line you put "you're." I think you meant "your." Now moving along.
I love the fifth line and the repetition of that great "p" sounds. Some of the lines play more as imagery than actual logic and creates some weird phrases, like "You fake Egyptians" I have a slight issue with the cohesiveness of the 6th and 7th line. To say "you" liquefy men and then to describe him as cake--which is not very liquid is difficult to understand and liquid is a little redundant, but I like the idea of having a list there.
I like the phrase "sexing ash and nylon."
The first line of the last stanza is a little syllabic.
You have some really alluring images here and I love the intenseness of some of these images, paralleled with the intenseness of the ending. You're right though, it's so cool to see what can happen from this calisthenic.
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