Junk Yard 28, Week 7

amazing lamb, garlic beef, and cheese bread. The service is awesome too :

Not my mama biscuits Ginaaaaa

Excited to meet my new friend Siri

Is actually eating a publix sub in a subway. Eating fresh, really

it's national coming out day, and can't decide what to come out as this year (nobody say bitch)

Realized: I'm not afraid of heights, I'm afraid of gravity

Junk Yard 27, Week 7

Signs in an education computer lab

This is a study area

no group work

quite

notice

no food

no drink

in this area

are you using protection?

could you have a virus?

hmmm.. computer lab signs to a promiscuous character?

Junk Yard 26, Week 7

As a kind of Cashmere of Wheat

Junk Yard 25, Week 7

I saw this on three signs driving home on the side of the road by a farm

Sign 1 I Sin

Sign 2 Who Paid

Sign 3 Jesus

umm yeahhhh...

Free Write 7, Week 7

I'm turning this in for our character assignment thing. Rules were 20 lines, 5 adjectives (max), 2 particular fruits, something exotic, and the voice of your opposite sex.


A Trained Man's Discovery

8:45 a.m. I'm blue printing an ensemble,
preparing to match my genetic offspring,
flattering my wife—Debora; a genus
in the rose family, I eye the pear
shape of her body, region throughout the world
and surrender to casualties.
Today my family will be frozen,
made into preserves as well as dried
and used in such things as memorabilia.
With strawberry whitened teeth,
we'll fold perfection like the bath linen
expected after laundry day, that washed
away the previous night of beer, football,
and unpleasant smells, compared to skunk
spray or sewage.
Us men husked like Durian, kinged forbidden
the whole experience, partied until
my allotted funds ran out at 11:13 p.m.
I returned home as told, and my wife
she smiled with no effort satisfaction.

Response 12, Week 6

For Diamond

You have a lot of interesting language going on in this piece. It still feels like you have too much of your own emotion in it. Perhaps try not to think of yourself or your ex (He sucks anyway). I really liked what you did today during class as you paid attention to the language and created this character and story of your own.

SIDE TRACK- Oh and before I forget.. something interesting I noticed about this piece is where you said "The screams, the noise, God, my noise" it reminded me of Chri's piece that we just worked shop when he talked about Gwen Steffani or however you spell her name. But I thought it was cool because maybe we do all kind of feed off each others work including the writers we read.

Anyway from the start of the piece it feels like you are grabbing experiences with your ex and telling us how he hurt you.I could be wrong but since I know it influenced your first draft I feel like I'm reading this piece as a heartbreak. I say forget about him and trying to make this a heart break piece and just pull your favorite parts out and write a completely different story. I really liked: the atom juice of my basic joy, smallest levels of animalism and awkwardness,Tuesday panties.

Improv 6 Week 6

Original: Sestina

September rain falls on the house. In the failing light, the old grandmother sits in the kitchen with the child beside the Little Marvel Stove, reading the jokes from the almanac, laughing and talking to hide her tears. She thinks that her equinoctial tears and the rain that beats on the roof of the house were both foretold by the almanac, but only known to a grandmother. The iron kettle sings on the stove. She cuts some bread and says to the child, It's time for tea now; but the child is watching the teakettle's small hard tears dance like mad on the hot black stove, the way the rain must dance on the house. Tidying up, the old grandmother hangs up the clever almanac on its string. Birdlike, the almanac hovers half open above the child, hovers above the old grandmother and her teacup full of dark brown tears. She shivers and says she thinks the house feels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove. It was to be, says the Marvel Stove. I know what I know, says the almanac. With crayons the child draws a rigid house and a winding pathway. Then the child puts in a man with buttons like tears and shows it proudly to the grandmother. But secretly, while the grandmother busies herself about the stove, the little moons fall down like tears from between the pages of the almanac into the flower bed the child has carefully placed in the front of the house. Time to plant tears, says the almanac. The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove and the child draws another inscrutable house. I didn't have a chance to finish mine but here is what I've got so far: But the words were Coffee, Cross Walk, Elevated, Caution, Building, Santa Fe October ninth we met for coffee at the Rustic Third in Jinks Town, beside the pecan shelled crosswalk where a child with tilt eyes cried and a mother's calm elevated to a state of caution that reached the third floor of the building Georgia O'keeffe devoted her ar to in Santa Fe The radiating grid of streets centering Santa Fe had the nervous abide to their business over coffee even while they were eaves dropping the stress of the neighboring building across the fourth crosswalk where the mother's threat had cautioned tape on the door that would soon elevate to the third floor. She would attempt to lower the elevate tempers ..... NOt done probably will re-do this anyway