Calisthenics 1, Week 6

The start of a poem from the junk in class task

The fattening calm of

Potpurri grease nestling in

The cracks of dry armpits.

Bulls dont see red

Torero's project magma

red trepidation onto the

Blank sheet .

Classmate Response 2, Week 6

untitled by April Joi Antoniou

sucking failure through

a Burger King straw

dripping fries

in ketchup tears

licking "what-ifs" from

the slowly sliding sides of

a soft-serve cone

while children scream and shout,

dragging grease and chicken nuggets

through plastic tubes

like maze rats.

Fake flame-broiled processed

thoughts on a bun

consumed, not absorbed.

Exhausted

like a mother of three

with no time

too much laundry

broke

and broken

by her own expectations.

My response:

This poem stands out as trying to capture a movement in life in a new lens. Analogizing the food and its condiments with the human emotions seems to create this artificial feel, going through the motions because of pressures. I think that this piece could in future revisions paint a more vivid image by depicting the scene and “background” so that it doesn’t seem in the subjects head. You should check out the Pain of Pink Evenings again, I think Rosemary Moore does a very solid job describing how Tracy as a mother is going through her own hardships.

Classmate Response 1, Week 6

Junkyard Quote 3, Wk 5 by David

"Wait, so tornadoes tap dance all over your schools, and your punishment is that you have to stay in school til 3:30 like everyone else?" - Me, talking to a friend on Facebook

Utilizing social networking sites for junk expands your writing fodder to another level. The conversations back and forth become this disjointed discussion where the visceral aspects of day to day living provide bits of specific writing material. “Tornadoes tap dance” gave me this very strong expression of how frequent the tornadoes may hit the location. This line alone could be the beginning of a piece, or used in a larger dialogue piece. You could pursue writing a whole dialogue on Facebook between two friends about the weather, but it isn’t really about the weather; something about their friendship that wont come out in person, or anything you’d like.

Free 1, Week 6

I stopped going to

the beach. I was the

only one who didn't

put bannaboat face

paint on my body. Onyx

brasilwood skin could

never burn. Born with

generations of hanging

and heat in our guts

like 10 suns over.

Improv 1, Week 6

Im prov

David Bottoms

Shooting Rats at the Bibb County Dump

Loaded on beer and whiskey, we ride

to the dump in carloads

to turn our headlights across the wasted field,

freeze the startled eyes of rats against mounds of rubbish.

Shot in the head, they jump only once, lie still

like dead beer cans.

Shot in the gut or rump, they writhe and try to burrow

into garbage, hide in old truck tires,

rusty oil drums, cardboard boxes scattered across the mounds,

or else drag themselves on forelegs across our beams of light

toward the darkness at the edge of the dump.

It’s the light they believe kills.

We drink and load again, let them crawl

for all they’re worth into the darkness we’re headed for.

We Pre game at the free house of the night:

Olde English and Marlboro Reds paper bag

wo(man)-child's better reasoning.

We galloped grasping the innards

of Broadways Iron Horse.

Advised not to, dubbed rebels

lean back flaunting the baby hairs

on their neck; signaling the sexual

availability that 18 brought,

wanting an onlooker

to answer. The subway doors

just slide,where voyeurs meet subjects

of unknown desire like conductors

following the same train route everyday.

Water balloons fell where I walked

just before arriving at the apartment.

Too smashed, the kids tolerated

jovial merry making, themselves

$3750 worth therapy consulted scholars

stuck face first in a bucket of

molasses

like aint it sweet.

I just started riffin on this Bottom piece, some of this may be "internalized," all comments greatly appreciated and wanted.

Junk 1-9 , Week 6

I am soo blown out right now – conversation with a friend

I bet you spent a lot of time in high school holding your sword of narnook - the old adventures of new Christine

The big left toe nail that looked like a hoof, you know the thing he would use as a letter opener – the old adventures of new Christine

I only know how to do one thing, or at least I used to know how- "Bone" film

There’s never warm waters in theaters

Of course I’m afraid. You think I’m reluctant because I’m Happy?- Robert DeNiro “Ronin”

Hang on Voltaire!- "Swingers"

Fuck rep I got a call back tomorrow morning- "Swingers"

Where a turtledove's call/Held daylight to the ground- "Aprils Anarchy" by Yusef Komunyakaa