Gastronomic Wrinkles in a Porous Continuum

[Sparkydashforth]

In a town not disimilar to your own
an alien puts on your face.
He has taken
 over the life
that you no longer use.

While you were sleeping
you leaked linto an aproximal cosmos
to be re-engineered by those better suited to being you.
Now each moment offers multiple hypotheticals,
a factor that may kill you, or recall you to yourself again.

The alien combs your hair grumbling about the thinness.
He eases into shoes you bought from a Payless Store.
He is leaving a rented apartment,
a place overrun with traits and characteristics,
your personal underwear.
He has borrowed you
while you strove to be unique among the children of Adam.

You go out to eat. Plans do not go well.
You stop at a Wendy’s.
You like the cheeseburger ‘mini’s.’
They are better than the ‘Baconnater,’
which you have to crouch over,
your fingers and lips splattered
with karmic chow.

At your table you feel like a giant.
The furnishings in Wendy’s
are one eighth smaller than adult size,
you wonder why but keep chomping.

The alien chooses this moment to stop by for chicken salad;
light ranch dressing - no croutons.
From behind his chair, you watch him.
Last week you went to the barber.
The visual memory of the back of your head
is still fresh.
You begin to suspect your life is being usurped.

A woman screams. There is uproar, a pack of peccadilloes
are infesting the restaurant. They scamper and bleat
between the patrons legs.
In the resulting chaos the alien departs.
Through a window, you see a man not dissimilar to you,
drive away in a old ‘Chevy Malibu’ not dissimilar to your own.

Fast food attains the speed of light.

The grill cook has come out from the back,
he looks like the Swedish chef from the Muppet Show,
in reality, he is a messenger from an uncertain future.
Amid the general hubbub, and despite his heavily accented English,
he demands that you get going
before you meet yourself coming back.

You have a quarter-pounder of a headache.
Ahead, there is a plastic fork in a plastic road.
The plasticity of the choices before you
threatens to destabilize the fabric of this Wendy franchise,
yet you dawdle amidst a pile of unused salt and pepper sachets.

By slight of hand the alien made off
with one of your grease-stained re-cycled napkins,
a DNA encoded document
that will confirm that you are much too poorly adapted
to ever improve upon, something as simple, for instance
as a grilled cheese sandwich.

　
~~

[CRNDLSM]

This is a really interesting idea. I started making a line by line, but got tired. I think you can do it a lititle less like a short story. Honestly I was getting annoyed with all the not dissimilars. And after reading everything a couple times, I couldn't quite grasp the closing stanza. I was probably just tired.

[Sparkydashforth]

Thanks for taking a look CRNDLSM,

it does go on a bit.

Cheers.

This is a really interesting idea. I started making a line by line, but got tired. I think you can do it a lititle less like a short story.  Honestly I was getting annoyed with all the not dissimilars. And after reading everything a couple times, I couldn't quite grasp the closing stanza. I was probably just tired.

[just mercedes]

In a town not disimilar to your own Clunky double negative
an alien puts on your face.
He has taken
 over the life
that you no longer use. Prose, too verbose

While you were sleeping
you leaked linto an aproximal cosmos typo 'linto'
to be re-engineered by those better suited to being you. verbose
Now each moment offers multiple hypotheticals,
a factor that may kill you, or recall you to yourself again. recall ... again? I don't see the need for both

The alien combs your hair grumbling about the thinness.
He eases into shoes you bought from a Payless Store.
He is leaving a rented apartment, passive - 'he leaves' is more active,more interesting to your reader
a place overrun with traits and characteristics, abstract
your personal underwear. 'personal'not needed
He has borrowed you
while you strove to be unique among the children of Adam. verbose,not needed

You go out to eat. Plans do not go well. prosey,too telling - show us
You stop at a Wendy’s.
You like the cheeseburger ‘mini’s.’
They are better than the ‘Baconnater,’prosey
which you have to crouch over,
your fingers and lips splattered
with karmic chow. 'splatter' doesn't work for this image

At your table you feel like a giant.
The furnishings in Wendy’s
are one eighth smaller than adult size,
you wonder why but keep chomping.

The alien chooses this moment to stops by for chicken salad;
light ranch dressing - no croutons.
From behind his chair, you watch him.
Last week you went to the barber.
The visual memory of the back of your head
is still fresh.
You begin to suspect your life is being usurped. again, 'is being'makes this too passive. Make something active

A woman screams. There is uproar, a pack of peccadilloes
are infesting the restaurant. They scamper and bleat
between the patrons legs. 'are infesting - passive
In the resulting chaos the alien departs. You've already given us 'uproar'
Through a window, you see a man not dissimilar to you, double negative, again irritating
drive away in a old ‘Chevy Malibu’ not dissimilar to your own. ditto

Fast food attains the speed of light. Great phrase but I don't see how it fits here

The grill cook has come out from the back,
he looks like the Swedish chef from the Muppet Show,
in reality, he is a messenger from an uncertain future. Prosey, verbose
Amid the general hubbub, and despite his heavily accented English, 'despite' doesn't make sense here
he demands that you get going
before you meet yourself coming back.

You have a quarter-pounder of a headache.
Ahead, there is a plastic fork in a plastic road. Good!
The plasticity of the choices before you
threatens to destabilize the fabric of this Wendy franchise,
yet you dawdle amidst a pile of unused salt and pepper sachets. the 'yet' doesn't work here

By slight of hand the alien made off sleight
with one of your grease-stained re-cycled napkins,
a DNA encoded document
that will confirm that you are much too poorly adapted
to ever improve upon, something as simple, for instance
as a grilled cheese sandwich. Does Wendy's serve grilled cheese sandwiches? They don't, here

　
~~

I really like the concept but I think you let yourself down with verbosity, too many gerunds, and leaps between tenses. Trim out all the words that aren't doing a job, and try to use more poetic devices such as alliteration, assonance, slant rhyme etc - there's a whole tool box full of them. Steer away from 'that', and prosey statements like 'Last week you went to the barber'. 

I didn't mean to do a line-by-line as this is in Mild. I'd love to see it shed words and shine, though, it's worth working on.

[Sparkydashforth]

Thanks for the fine critique JM
lots of good suggestions

Obliged to you.

In a town not disimilar to your own Clunky double negative
an alien puts on your face.
He has taken
 over the life
that you no longer use. Prose, too verbose

While you were sleeping
you leaked linto an aproximal cosmos typo 'linto'
to be re-engineered by those better suited to being you. verbose
Now each moment offers multiple hypotheticals,
a factor that may kill you, or recall you to yourself again. recall ... again? I don't see the need for both

The alien combs your hair grumbling about the thinness.
He eases into shoes you bought from a Payless Store.
He is leaving a rented apartment, passive - 'he leaves' is more active,more interesting to your reader
a place overrun with traits and characteristics, abstract
your personal underwear. 'personal'not needed
He has borrowed you
while you strove to be unique among the children of Adam. verbose,not needed

You go out to eat. Plans do not go well. prosey,too telling - show us
You stop at a Wendy’s.
You like the cheeseburger ‘mini’s.’
They are better than the ‘Baconnater,’prosey
which you have to crouch over,
your fingers and lips splattered
with karmic chow. 'splatter' doesn't work for this image

At your table you feel like a giant.
The furnishings in Wendy’s
are one eighth smaller than adult size,
you wonder why but keep chomping.

The alien chooses this moment to stops by for chicken salad;
light ranch dressing - no croutons.
From behind his chair, you watch him.
Last week you went to the barber.
The visual memory of the back of your head
is still fresh.
You begin to suspect your life is being usurped. again, 'is being'makes this too passive. Make something active

A woman screams. There is uproar, a pack of peccadilloes
are infesting the restaurant. They scamper and bleat
between the patrons legs. 'are infesting - passive
In the resulting chaos the alien departs. You've already given us 'uproar'
Through a window, you see a man not dissimilar to you, double negative, again irritating
drive away in a old ‘Chevy Malibu’ not dissimilar to your own. ditto

Fast food attains the speed of light. Great phrase but I don't see how it fits here

The grill cook has come out from the back,
he looks like the Swedish chef from the Muppet Show,
in reality, he is a messenger from an uncertain future. Prosey, verbose
Amid the general hubbub, and despite his heavily accented English, 'despite' doesn't make sense here
he demands that you get going
before you meet yourself coming back.

You have a quarter-pounder of a headache.
Ahead, there is a plastic fork in a plastic road. Good!
The plasticity of the choices before you
threatens to destabilize the fabric of this Wendy franchise,
yet you dawdle amidst a pile of unused salt and pepper sachets. the 'yet' doesn't work here

By slight of hand the alien made off sleight
with one of your grease-stained re-cycled napkins,
a DNA encoded document
that will confirm that you are much too poorly adapted
to ever improve upon, something as simple, for instance
as a grilled cheese sandwich. Does Wendy's serve grilled cheese sandwiches? They don't, here

　
~~

I really like the concept but I think you let yourself down with verbosity, too many gerunds, and leaps between tenses. Trim out all the words that aren't doing a job, and try to use more poetic devices such as alliteration, assonance, slant rhyme etc - there's a whole tool box full of them. Steer away from 'that', and prosey statements like 'Last week you went to the barber'. 

I didn't mean to do a line-by-line as this is in Mild. I'd love to see it shed words and shine, though, it's worth working on.

[Sparkydashforth]

Thanks for the fine critique JM
lots of good suggestions

Obliged to you.

In a town not disimilar to your own Clunky double negative
an alien puts on your face.
He has taken
 over the life
that you no longer use. Prose, too verbose

While you were sleeping
you leaked linto an aproximal cosmos typo 'linto'
to be re-engineered by those better suited to being you. verbose
Now each moment offers multiple hypotheticals,
a factor that may kill you, or recall you to yourself again. recall ... again? I don't see the need for both

The alien combs your hair grumbling about the thinness.
He eases into shoes you bought from a Payless Store.
He is leaving a rented apartment, passive - 'he leaves' is more active,more interesting to your reader
a place overrun with traits and characteristics, abstract
your personal underwear. 'personal'not needed
He has borrowed you
while you strove to be unique among the children of Adam. verbose,not needed

You go out to eat. Plans do not go well. prosey,too telling - show us
You stop at a Wendy’s.
You like the cheeseburger ‘mini’s.’
They are better than the ‘Baconnater,’prosey
which you have to crouch over,
your fingers and lips splattered
with karmic chow. 'splatter' doesn't work for this image

At your table you feel like a giant.
The furnishings in Wendy’s
are one eighth smaller than adult size,
you wonder why but keep chomping.

The alien chooses this moment to stops by for chicken salad;
light ranch dressing - no croutons.
From behind his chair, you watch him.
Last week you went to the barber.
The visual memory of the back of your head
is still fresh.
You begin to suspect your life is being usurped. again, 'is being'makes this too passive. Make something active

A woman screams. There is uproar, a pack of peccadilloes
are infesting the restaurant. They scamper and bleat
between the patrons legs. 'are infesting - passive
In the resulting chaos the alien departs. You've already given us 'uproar'
Through a window, you see a man not dissimilar to you, double negative, again irritating
drive away in a old ‘Chevy Malibu’ not dissimilar to your own. ditto

Fast food attains the speed of light. Great phrase but I don't see how it fits here

The grill cook has come out from the back,
he looks like the Swedish chef from the Muppet Show,
in reality, he is a messenger from an uncertain future. Prosey, verbose
Amid the general hubbub, and despite his heavily accented English, 'despite' doesn't make sense here
he demands that you get going
before you meet yourself coming back.

You have a quarter-pounder of a headache.
Ahead, there is a plastic fork in a plastic road. Good!
The plasticity of the choices before you
threatens to destabilize the fabric of this Wendy franchise,
yet you dawdle amidst a pile of unused salt and pepper sachets. the 'yet' doesn't work here

By slight of hand the alien made off sleight
with one of your grease-stained re-cycled napkins,
a DNA encoded document
that will confirm that you are much too poorly adapted
to ever improve upon, something as simple, for instance
as a grilled cheese sandwich. Does Wendy's serve grilled cheese sandwiches? They don't, here

　
~~

I really like the concept but I think you let yourself down with verbosity, too many gerunds, and leaps between tenses. Trim out all the words that aren't doing a job, and try to use more poetic devices such as alliteration, assonance, slant rhyme etc - there's a whole tool box full of them. Steer away from 'that', and prosey statements like 'Last week you went to the barber'. 

I didn't mean to do a line-by-line as this is in Mild. I'd love to see it shed words and shine, though, it's worth working on.

---

Thanks for the fine critique JM
lots of good suggestions

Obliged to you.

In a town not disimilar to your own Clunky double negative
an alien puts on your face.
He has taken
 over the life
that you no longer use. Prose, too verbose

While you were sleeping
you leaked linto an aproximal cosmos typo 'linto'
to be re-engineered by those better suited to being you. verbose
Now each moment offers multiple hypotheticals,
a factor that may kill you, or recall you to yourself again. recall ... again? I don't see the need for both

The alien combs your hair grumbling about the thinness.
He eases into shoes you bought from a Payless Store.
He is leaving a rented apartment, passive - 'he leaves' is more active,more interesting to your reader
a place overrun with traits and characteristics, abstract
your personal underwear. 'personal'not needed
He has borrowed you
while you strove to be unique among the children of Adam. verbose,not needed

You go out to eat. Plans do not go well. prosey,too telling - show us
You stop at a Wendy’s.
You like the cheeseburger ‘mini’s.’
They are better than the ‘Baconnater,’prosey
which you have to crouch over,
your fingers and lips splattered
with karmic chow. 'splatter' doesn't work for this image

At your table you feel like a giant.
The furnishings in Wendy’s
are one eighth smaller than adult size,
you wonder why but keep chomping.

The alien chooses this moment to stops by for chicken salad;
light ranch dressing - no croutons.
From behind his chair, you watch him.
Last week you went to the barber.
The visual memory of the back of your head
is still fresh.
You begin to suspect your life is being usurped. again, 'is being'makes this too passive. Make something active

A woman screams. There is uproar, a pack of peccadilloes
are infesting the restaurant. They scamper and bleat
between the patrons legs. 'are infesting - passive
In the resulting chaos the alien departs. You've already given us 'uproar'
Through a window, you see a man not dissimilar to you, double negative, again irritating
drive away in a old ‘Chevy Malibu’ not dissimilar to your own. ditto

Fast food attains the speed of light. Great phrase but I don't see how it fits here

The grill cook has come out from the back,
he looks like the Swedish chef from the Muppet Show,
in reality, he is a messenger from an uncertain future. Prosey, verbose
Amid the general hubbub, and despite his heavily accented English, 'despite' doesn't make sense here
he demands that you get going
before you meet yourself coming back.

You have a quarter-pounder of a headache.
Ahead, there is a plastic fork in a plastic road. Good!
The plasticity of the choices before you
threatens to destabilize the fabric of this Wendy franchise,
yet you dawdle amidst a pile of unused salt and pepper sachets. the 'yet' doesn't work here

By slight of hand the alien made off sleight
with one of your grease-stained re-cycled napkins,
a DNA encoded document
that will confirm that you are much too poorly adapted
to ever improve upon, something as simple, for instance
as a grilled cheese sandwich. Does Wendy's serve grilled cheese sandwiches? They don't, here

　
~~

I really like the concept but I think you let yourself down with verbosity, too many gerunds, and leaps between tenses. Trim out all the words that aren't doing a job, and try to use more poetic devices such as alliteration, assonance, slant rhyme etc - there's a whole tool box full of them. Steer away from 'that', and prosey statements like 'Last week you went to the barber'. 

I didn't mean to do a line-by-line as this is in Mild. I'd love to see it shed words and shine, though, it's worth working on.

---

No problem JM
it probably does not even qualify as a poem. I just like to write.

I understand how easy it is to get carried away with the critique,
and then realize you have been a little harsh....have done it myself...often.

It's only a bit of scribbling, so I take no offense, and I will take the feedback
and try to improve.

Bless

Thanks for the fine critique JM
lots of good suggestions

Obliged to you.

I really like the concept but I think you let yourself down with verbosity, too many gerunds, and leaps between tenses. Trim out all the words that aren't doing a job, and try to use more poetic devices such as alliteration, assonance, slant rhyme etc - there's a whole tool box full of them. Steer away from 'that', and prosey statements like 'Last week you went to the barber'. 

I didn't mean to do a line-by-line as this is in Mild. I'd love to see it shed words and shine, though, it's worth working on.

---

Thanks for the fine critique JM
lots of good suggestions

Obliged to you.

I really like the concept but I think you let yourself down with verbosity, too many gerunds, and leaps between tenses. Trim out all the words that aren't doing a job, and try to use more poetic devices such as alliteration, assonance, slant rhyme etc - there's a whole tool box full of them. Steer away from 'that', and prosey statements like 'Last week you went to the barber'. 

I didn't mean to do a line-by-line as this is in Mild. I'd love to see it shed words and shine, though, it's worth working on.

[Alic Elliot]

The idea is nice, like CRNDLSM said. My advice is take a creepier angle, instead of prose-ish description. Stanzas 3-5 can be scratched entirely.

Best, Alic

[Sparkydashforth]

The idea is nice, like CRNDLSM said. My advice is take a creepier angle, instead of prose-ish description. Stanzas 3-5 can be scratched entirely.

Best, Alic

Okay Alic, general opinion seems to be that this is a poor excuse for a poem, and that it should be taken out
and mercifully shot.

I probably will salvage its bones one day when I dislike it as much as everyone else

[CRNDLSM]

[/quote]

Okay Alic, general opinion seems to be that this is a poor excuse for a poem, and that it should be taken out
and mercifully shot.

[/quote]

That's not true, I was hoping you'd sew like a syllable count per line thing, or introduce a pattern, bring out more of the art than the story

[Sparkydashforth]

Okay Alic, general opinion seems to be that this is a poor excuse for a poem, and that it should be taken out
and mercifully shot.

[/quote]

That's not true, I was hoping you'd sew like a syllable count per line thing, or introduce a pattern, bring out more of the art than the story
[/quote]

It's a  prose-poem Crndlsm, It probably belongs in the Miscellaneous Forum - my mistake. labels and forms tend to push
writing into boxes.  It's not a poem by the rules of poetry.  I accept that --- shrug and move on.

Much thanks for the feedback.

[Leanne]

This is not a comment on the poem, but just a correction on a misconception -- this may be more prose-like than many poems here but it is clearly still poetry, particularly as the writer views it as such, and it is not so experimentally out-there that it can only find a home in miscellaneous. It is a poem that can be, and has been, critiqued.

I would like to remind all members of this thread for those new to critique, or those who might do well to brush up on it, particularly this section:

Remember that this is not your writing. Ask yourself what the author wants to achieve and how best that goal can be met within the existing framework of the piece. Do not attempt to impose your own style on another writer; a good reviewer will in fact impose the writer’s style on him/herself for the duration of the critique.

[Sparkydashforth]

Damn Leanne,

thanks for the thought on this. When I write mostly don't know what the hell I am doing,
so poor poetry or not, it's nice to see it acknowledged as a poem!

Appreciate the comment. ><

This is not a comment on the poem, but just a correction on a misconception -- this may be more prose-like than many poems here but it is clearly still poetry, particularly as the writer views it as such, and it is not so experimentally out-there that it can only find a home in miscellaneous.  It is a poem that can be, and has been, critiqued.

I would like to remind all members of this thread for those new to critique, or those who might do well to brush up on it, particularly this section:

Remember that this is not your writing. Ask yourself what the author wants to achieve and how best that goal can be met within the existing framework of the piece. Do not attempt to impose your own style on another writer; a good reviewer will in fact impose the writer’s style on him/herself for the duration of the critique.

[Alic Elliot]

Hmm..

After reviewing the critique tips, I'm going to revise my own critique.

I still believe that stanzas 3-5 can be changed. Maybe not scratched entirely, but three long-ish stanzas about lunch at Wendy's is just not that intetesting. Furthermore, I can't tell if this is detachment or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sometimes it seems one way, other times the other. Is it supposed to be a grey-ish line? Lastly, it does tell an interesting story, but there are weird little details. 'Pack of peccadilloes' - would a bunch of small issues cause a woman to scream?

Best, Alic

[Sparkydashforth]

Hi Alic,

you opinions are valid no matter what.

I like to be challenged. For me, the Wendy's stuff is central to the write.

I deliberately left conclusions on the shelf. Why would I need to reach a nice logical conclusion?

I'm in a strange place here....I don't want to be defending a flawed write.

Peccadilloes and traits take on an almost animalistic form of their own - at least I hope they do,
and so I gave them legs. I was imaging our personal foibles as a reality apart from our selves.
Would our personal nose picking, butt scratching behaviors make a woman patron scream
if they got loose in a Wendy's?  Maybe, if they invaded as a mob of our totality.

I wanted to show the baggage of being.  I wanted to show that maybe if an alien race
did try to replicate us, they might find our unpredictable human natures a little too primitive
to compute. The poem ( I can proudly call it a poem now), wants to illustrate the high points of our
civilization, like when we invented in-door plumbing, the porcelain crapper,
 and the grilled cheese sandwich.

The fact that we have these high water marks in our mostly low water achievements
makes us an anomaly, we are high achieving because we like to spend most
of our time in trivial and carnal pursuits -- aliens could never agree, I think.  

Anyway it's all speculation and fantasy, until it all comes together.
I doubt if the write encompassed much of this.
The reader might find something to chew over in the odd line or two.

For good or worse, it's a point of view on a lesser trod road.


“sláinte!

Hmm..

After reviewing the critique tips, I'm going to revise my own critique.

I still believe that stanzas 3-5 can be changed. Maybe not scratched entirely, but three long-ish stanzas about lunch at Wendy's is just not that intetesting. Furthermore, I can't tell if this is detachment or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sometimes it seems one way, other times the other. Is it supposed to be a grey-ish line? Lastly, it does tell an interesting story, but there are weird little details. 'Pack of peccadilloes' - would a bunch of small issues cause a woman to scream?

Best, Alic

---

Hi Alic,

you opinions are valid no matter what.

I like to be challenged. For me, The Wendy's stuff is central to the write.

I deliberately left conclusions on the shelf. Why would I need to reach a nice logical conclusion?

I'm in a strange place here....I don't want to be defending a flawed write.

Peccadilloes and traits take on an almost animalistic form of their own - at least I hope they do,
and so I gave them legs. I was imaging our personal foibles as a reality apart from our selves.
Would our personal nose picking, butt scratching behaviors make a woman patron scream
if they got loose in a Wendy's?  Maybe, if they invaded as a mob of our totality.

I wanted to show the baggage of being.  I wanted to show that maybe if an alien race
did try to replicate us, they might find our unpredictable human natures a little too primitive
to compute. The poem ( I can proudly call it a poem now), wants to illustrate the high points of our
civilization, like when we invented in-door plumbing, the porcelain crapper,
 and the grilled cheese sandwich.

The fact that we have these high water marks in our mostly low water achievements
makes us an anomaly, we are high achieving because we like to spend most
of our time in trivial and carnal pursuits -- aliens could never agree, I think.  

Anyway it's all speculation and fantasy, until it all comes together.
I doubt if the write encompassed much of this.
The reader might find something to chew over in the odd line or two.

For good or worse, it's a point of view on a lesser trod road.


“sláinte!

Hmm..

After reviewing the critique tips, I'm going to revise my own critique.

I still believe that stanzas 3-5 can be changed. Maybe not scratched entirely, but three long-ish stanzas about lunch at Wendy's is just not that intetesting. Furthermore, I can't tell if this is detachment or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sometimes it seems one way, other times the other. Is it supposed to be a grey-ish line? Lastly, it does tell an interesting story, but there are weird little details. 'Pack of peccadilloes' - would a bunch of small issues cause a woman to scream?

Best, Alic

---

Hi Alic,

you opinions are valid no matter what.

I like to be challenged. For me, The Wendy's stuff is central to the write.

I deliberately left conclusions on the shelf. Why would I need to reach a nice logical conclusion?

I'm in a strange place here....I don't want to be defending a flawed write.

Peccadilloes and traits take on an almost animalistic form of their own - at least I hope they do,
and so I gave them legs. I was imaging our personal foibles as a reality apart from our selves.
Would our personal nose picking, butt scratching behaviors make a woman patron scream
if they got loose in a Wendy's?  Maybe, if they invaded as a mob of our totality.

I wanted to show the baggage of being.  I wanted to show that maybe if an alien race
did try to replicate us, they might find our unpredictable human natures a little too primitive
to compute. The poem ( I can proudly call it a poem now), wants to illustrate the high points of our
civilization, like when we invented in-door plumbing, the porcelain crapper,
 and the grilled cheese sandwich.

The fact that we have these high water marks in our mostly low water achievements
makes us an anomaly, we are high achieving because we like to spend most
of our time in trivial and carnal pursuits -- aliens could never agree, I think.  

Anyway it's all speculation and fantasy, until it all comes together.
I doubt if the write encompassed much of this.
The reader might find something to chew over in the odd line or two.

For good or worse, it's a point of view on a lesser trod road.


“sláinte!

Hmm..

After reviewing the critique tips, I'm going to revise my own critique.

I still believe that stanzas 3-5 can be changed. Maybe not scratched entirely, but three long-ish stanzas about lunch at Wendy's is just not that intetesting. Furthermore, I can't tell if this is detachment or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sometimes it seems one way, other times the other. Is it supposed to be a grey-ish line? Lastly, it does tell an interesting story, but there are weird little details. 'Pack of peccadilloes' - would a bunch of small issues cause a woman to scream?

Best, Alic

---

Hi Alic,

you opinions are valid no matter what.

I like to be challenged. For me, The Wendy's stuff is central to the write.

I deliberately left conclusions on the shelf. Why would I need to reach a nice logical conclusion?

I'm in a strange place here....I don't want to be defending a flawed write.

Peccadilloes and traits take on an almost animalistic form of their own - at least I hope they do,
and so I gave them legs. I was imaging our personal foibles as a reality apart from our selves.
Would our personal nose picking, butt scratching behaviors make a woman patron scream
if they got loose in a Wendy's?  Maybe, if they invaded as a mob of our totality.

I wanted to show the baggage of being.  I wanted to show that maybe if an alien race
did try to replicate us, they might find our unpredictable human natures a little too primitive
to compute. The poem ( I can proudly call it a poem now), wants to illustrate the high points of our
civilization, like when we invented in-door plumbing, the porcelain crapper,
 and the grilled cheese sandwich.

The fact that we have these high water marks in our mostly low water achievements
makes us an anomaly, we are high achieving because we like to spend most
of our time in trivial and carnal pursuits -- aliens could never agree, I think.  

Anyway it's all speculation and fantasy, until it all comes together.
I doubt if the write encompassed much of this.
The reader might find something to chew over in the odd line or two.

For good or worse, it's a point of view on a lesser trod road.


“sláinte!

Hmm..

After reviewing the critique tips, I'm going to revise my own critique.

I still believe that stanzas 3-5 can be changed. Maybe not scratched entirely, but three long-ish stanzas about lunch at Wendy's is just not that intetesting. Furthermore, I can't tell if this is detachment or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sometimes it seems one way, other times the other. Is it supposed to be a grey-ish line? Lastly, it does tell an interesting story, but there are weird little details. 'Pack of peccadilloes' - would a bunch of small issues cause a woman to scream?

Best, Alic

---

Hi Alic,

you opinions are valid no matter what.

I like to be challenged. For me, The Wendy's stuff is central to the write.

I deliberately left conclusions on the shelf. Why would I need to reach a nice logical conclusion?

I'm in a strange place here....I don't want to be defending a flawed write.

Peccadilloes and traits take on an almost animalistic form of their own - at least I hope they do,
and so I gave them legs. I was imaging our personal foibles as a reality apart from our selves.
Would our personal nose picking, butt scratching behaviors make a woman patron scream
if they got loose in a Wendy's?  Maybe, if they invaded as a mob of our totality.

I wanted to show the baggage of being.  I wanted to show that maybe if an alien race
did try to replicate us, they might find our unpredictable human natures a little too primitive
to compute. The poem ( I can proudly call it a poem now), wants to illustrate the high points of our
civilization, like when we invented in-door plumbing, the porcelain crapper,
 and the grilled cheese sandwich.

The fact that we have these high water marks in our mostly low water achievements
makes us an anomaly, we are high achieving because we like to spend most
of our time in trivial and carnal pursuits -- aliens could never agree, I think.  

Anyway it's all speculation and fantasy, until it all comes together.
I doubt if the write encompassed much of this.
The reader might find something to chew over in the odd line or two.

For good or worse, it's a point of view on a lesser trod road.


“sláinte!

Hmm..

After reviewing the critique tips, I'm going to revise my own critique.

I still believe that stanzas 3-5 can be changed. Maybe not scratched entirely, but three long-ish stanzas about lunch at Wendy's is just not that intetesting. Furthermore, I can't tell if this is detachment or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sometimes it seems one way, other times the other. Is it supposed to be a grey-ish line? Lastly, it does tell an interesting story, but there are weird little details. 'Pack of peccadilloes' - would a bunch of small issues cause a woman to scream?

Best, Alic

---

Hi Alic,

you opinions are valid no matter what.

I like to be challenged. For me, The Wendy's stuff is central to the write.

I deliberately left conclusions on the shelf. Why would I need to reach a nice logical conclusion?

I'm in a strange place here....I don't want to be defending a flawed write.

Peccadilloes and traits take on an almost animalistic form of their own - at least I hope they do,
and so I gave them legs. I was imaging our personal foibles as a reality apart from our selves.
Would our personal nose picking, butt scratching behaviors make a woman patron scream
if they got loose in a Wendy's?  Maybe, if they invaded as a mob of our totality.

I wanted to show the baggage of being.  I wanted to show that maybe if an alien race
did try to replicate us, they might find our unpredictable human natures a little too primitive
to compute. The poem ( I can proudly call it a poem now), wants to illustrate the high points of our
civilization, like when we invented in-door plumbing, the porcelain crapper,
 and the grilled cheese sandwich.

The fact that we have these high water marks in our mostly low water achievements
makes us an anomaly, we are high achieving because we like to spend most
of our time in trivial and carnal pursuits -- aliens could never agree, I think.  

Anyway it's all speculation and fantasy, until it all comes together.
I doubt if the write encompassed much of this.
The reader might find something to chew over in the odd line or two.

For good or worse, it's a point of view on a lesser trod road.


“sláinte!

Hmm..

After reviewing the critique tips, I'm going to revise my own critique.

I still believe that stanzas 3-5 can be changed. Maybe not scratched entirely, but three long-ish stanzas about lunch at Wendy's is just not that intetesting. Furthermore, I can't tell if this is detachment or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sometimes it seems one way, other times the other. Is it supposed to be a grey-ish line? Lastly, it does tell an interesting story, but there are weird little details. 'Pack of peccadilloes' - would a bunch of small issues cause a woman to scream?

Best, Alic

---

Hi Alic,

you opinions are valid no matter what.

I like to be challenged. For me, The Wendy's stuff is central to the write.

I deliberately left conclusions on the shelf. Why would I need to reach a nice logical conclusion?

I'm in a strange place here....I don't want to be defending a flawed write.

Peccadilloes and traits take on an almost animalistic form of their own - at least I hope they do,
and so I gave them legs. I was imaging our personal foibles as a reality apart from our selves.
Would our personal nose picking, butt scratching behaviors make a woman patron scream
if they got loose in a Wendy's?  Maybe, if they invaded as a mob of our totality.

I wanted to show the baggage of being.  I wanted to show that maybe if an alien race
did try to replicate us, they might find our unpredictable human natures a little too primitive
to compute. The poem ( I can proudly call it a poem now), wants to illustrate the high points of our
civilization, like when we invented in-door plumbing, the porcelain crapper,
 and the grilled cheese sandwich.

The fact that we have these high water marks in our mostly low water achievements
makes us an anomaly, we are high achieving because we like to spend most
of our time in trivial and carnal pursuits -- aliens could never agree, I think.  

Anyway it's all speculation and fantasy, until it all comes together.
I doubt if the write encompassed much of this.
The reader might find something to chew over in the odd line or two.

For good or worse, it's a point of view on a lesser trod road.


“sláinte!

Hmm..

After reviewing the critique tips, I'm going to revise my own critique.

I still believe that stanzas 3-5 can be changed. Maybe not scratched entirely, but three long-ish stanzas about lunch at Wendy's is just not that intetesting. Furthermore, I can't tell if this is detachment or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sometimes it seems one way, other times the other. Is it supposed to be a grey-ish line? Lastly, it does tell an interesting story, but there are weird little details. 'Pack of peccadilloes' - would a bunch of small issues cause a woman to scream?

Best, Alic

---

Hi Alic,

you opinions are valid no matter what.

I like to be challenged. For me, The Wendy's stuff is central to the write.

I deliberately left conclusions on the shelf. Why would I need to reach a nice logical conclusion?

I'm in a strange place here....I don't want to be defending a flawed write.

Peccadilloes and traits take on an almost animalistic form of their own - at least I hope they do,
and so I gave them legs. I was imaging our personal foibles as a reality apart from our selves.
Would our personal nose picking, butt scratching behaviors make a woman patron scream
if they got loose in a Wendy's?  Maybe, if they invaded as a mob of our totality.

I wanted to show the baggage of being.  I wanted to show that maybe if an alien race
did try to replicate us, they might find our unpredictable human natures a little too primitive
to compute. The poem ( I can proudly call it a poem now), wants to illustrate the high points of our
civilization, like when we invented in-door plumbing, the porcelain crapper,
 and the grilled cheese sandwich.

The fact that we have these high water marks in our mostly low water achievements
makes us an anomaly, we are high achieving because we like to spend most
of our time in trivial and carnal pursuits -- aliens could never agree, I think.  

Anyway it's all speculation and fantasy, until it all comes together.
I doubt if the write encompassed much of this.
The reader might find something to chew over in the odd line or two.

For good or worse, it's a point of view on a lesser trod road.


“sláinte!

Hmm..

After reviewing the critique tips, I'm going to revise my own critique.

I still believe that stanzas 3-5 can be changed. Maybe not scratched entirely, but three long-ish stanzas about lunch at Wendy's is just not that intetesting. Furthermore, I can't tell if this is detachment or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sometimes it seems one way, other times the other. Is it supposed to be a grey-ish line? Lastly, it does tell an interesting story, but there are weird little details. 'Pack of peccadilloes' - would a bunch of small issues cause a woman to scream?

Best, Alic