I Bought a Doll Today

[Lizzie]

I bought a doll today—
she's cloth with a white eyelet dress
and a matching Sunday bonnet.
I named her Kyrielle Elise.
I'll slowly ruin her.

It can't just be me that wants to thread
a series of cuss words together
and call it a rondolet.
Mother tried to teach me to sew,
grow my patience for precision-
cutting patterns. She relented
when I broke the sewing machine's needle.

Don't you ever itch to start bitching
people out mid ghazal? It can't just be me.
Does the ceiling fan resume its metronomic clicking,
and the cat shock you with her tail
while she seduces your leg?
Maybe your neighbor's trash can
scrapes the pavement like a dragging muffler
as they heave it clumsily
to the curb.

I imagine myself melding with a madrigal
the way a man merges with his machine,
like Chuck Yeager and his Glamorous Glennis,
punching a hole in the sky.
I could meld with a machine
if I burned alive in its wreckage.
My refrains would have been the glory
of a 1840's schoolmarm: they snore
like the moral for a boring story.

Exploring Elizabethans makes me feel
like I'm living my nightmare
where I try to call emergency
but my fingers won't push the numbers
in the right order. In a sudden volta
that can only be achieved in dreams,
I realize that I'm not holding a phone
but a blender, and my conceit
is colorless inside. Please confess:
it's not just me.

[Todd]

Hi Lizzie, I quite like this and that's saying something because I'm a bit resistant to poetry that refers to poetry. I think its the voice of the piece that helps me overcome my bias. A few comments for you:

I bought a doll today—
she's cloth with a white eyelet dress
and a matching Sunday bonnet.--the good image sells when you bring in the slight reference to the poetic form. 
I named her Kyrielle Elise.--Love this. It's just close enough to be a pretentious doll's name to be believable.
I'll slowly ruin her.--Here's where you made me want to read. I love this line. I'm hooked at this point.

It can't just be me that wants to thread--lovely break playing on thread and a cloth doll and then threading the cuss words together. Also, it's good to introduce some more subversive elements into the poem. 
a series of cuss words together
and call it a rondolet.
Mother tried to teach me to sew,
grow my patience for precision-
cutting patterns. She relented
when I broke the sewing machine's needle.--There's nothing exactly wrong with this section but as I weigh it against the piece I'm not sure what it buys you other than the first three lines. You seem to be mentioning a different form per each strophe. I'm not sure how necessary that is. Perhaps have these three lines start the next strophe. You seem to abandon the tenuous connection to the cloth of the doll in the next strophe anyway. It seems to be more launching pad than extended metaphor (and that's fine).

Don't you ever itch to start bitching
people out mid ghazal? It can't just be me.--I think that adjustment could work because you slightly cuss here tying the two thoughts together. I'm leaning away from continuing the refrain of "It can't just be me" or variants. I would cut this one. I think it's something that established your voice's cadence like a scaffold that can now be removed. If you were doing it in every strophe subtlely mimicking the kyrielle that would make it possible though I still don't think it's as effective as cutting it.
Does the ceiling fan resume its metronomic clicking,--love the image and the sound evoked.
and the cat shock you with her tail--shock is a great word choice
while she seduces your leg?--another great break for the ambiguity on the next line for what the cat seduces.
Maybe your neighbor's trash can
scrapes the pavement like a dragging muffler--like this.
as they heave it clumsily
to the curb.

I imagine myself melding with a madrigal
the way a man merges with his machine,--nice alliteration
like Chuck Yeager and his Glamorous Glennis,
punching a hole in the sky. --visual fits well with Yeager and the sound barrier.
I could meld with a machine
if I burned alive in its wreckage.--I would end this strophe here. I think it fits better with the overall tone you establish. The last three lines feel like if you were to use them they may belong to the strophe below.
My refrains would have been the glory
of a 1830's schoolmarm: they snore
like the moral for a boring story.

Exploring Elizabethans makes me feel
like I'm living my nightmare
where I try to call emergency
but my fingers won't push the numbers
in the right order. In a sudden volta
that can only be achieved in dreams,
I realize that I'm not holding a phone
but a blender, and my conceit
is colorless inside. Please confess:
it's not just me.--Here's where I'm going to suggest another rearrangement. Let me just show you as it's easier than describing it.

Exploring Elizabethans makes me feel
like I'm living my nightmare
where I try to call emergency
but my fingers won't push the numbers
in the right order. I realize 
that I'm not holding a phone
but a blender, and my conceit
is colorless inside. [b]In a sudden volta 
that can only be achieved in dreams

I got rid of the Please confess it's not just me, and moved the volta lines to the end. They may need a bit of smoothing. I understand the placement you currently have and am only reacting to the fact that they are your strongest lines to end on. I like a lot of your language choices in the final strophe.

 

Just some thoughts to consider.

Best,

Todd

[kolemath]

I bought a doll today—
she's cloth with a white eyelet dress
and a matching Sunday bonnet.
I named her Kyrielle Elise. why this name? some random girl on youtube has it?
I'll slowly ruin her. there's a dark allegory here. intended?

It can't just be me that wants to thread
a series of cuss words together
and call it a rondolet.
Mother tried to teach me to sew,
grow my patience for precision-
cutting patterns. She relented
when I broke the sewing machine's needle. again, the dark 'use a person' allegory could too apply

Don't you ever itch to start bitching
people out mid ghazal? It can't just be me.
Does the ceiling fan resume its metronomic clicking, good sounds
and the cat shock you with her tail
while she seduces your leg?
Maybe your neighbor's trash can
scrapes the pavement like a dragging muffler
as they heave it clumsily i'm a stickler for pronoun antecedent agreement, but who cares about that stuff besides nerdy teachers with nothing better to do
to the curb.

I imagine myself melding with a madrigal
the way a man merges with his machine,
like Chuck Yeager and his Glamorous Glennis,
punching a hole in the sky.
I could meld with a machine
if I burned alive in its wreckage.
My refrains would have been the glory
of a 1830's schoolmarm: they snore
like the moral for a boring story. and my biased reading fails in this stanza (not your fault)

Exploring Elizabethans makes me feel
like I'm living my nightmare
where I try to call emergency such good lines here
but my fingers won't push the numbers
in the right order. In a sudden volta
that can only be achieved in dreams,
I realize that I'm not holding a phone
but a blender, and my conceit
is colorless inside. Please confess:
it's not just me.

Nice one, Lizzie.

[Lizzie]

Thanks for the feedback guys! Much appreciated. I'll address specific points in a minute, but just wanted to clear something up.

Kyrielle Elise is a play on kyrie eleison. I was trying to be clever, but I don't think it's working. I got the idea from the Kyrielle practice thread. http://www.pigpenpoetry.com/thread-3518.html

[Todd]

Thanks for the feedback guys! Much appreciated. I'll address specific points in a minute, but just wanted to clear something up.

Kyrielle Elise is a play on kyrie eleison. I was trying to be clever, but I don't think it's working. I got the idea from the Kyrielle practice thread. http://www.pigpenpoetry.com/thread-3518.html

I got it. I took it as a cabbage patch doll gets a poetic form's name.

[Lizzie]

Thanks for the feedback guys! Much appreciated. I'll address specific points in a minute, but just wanted to clear something up.

Kyrielle Elise is a play on kyrie eleison. I was trying to be clever, but I don't think it's working. I got the idea from the Kyrielle practice thread. http://www.pigpenpoetry.com/thread-3518.html

I got it. I took it as a cabbage patch doll gets a poetic form's name.

Ok, good. Yeah, that's exactly what I did, cabbage patch and all!!

[CRNDLSM]

I really like this idea, just an idea to make the poem references more readily available, why not show your frustration with those forms with a snippet of the form, portion each strophe to contain not just the name of the form, but the form itself

I bought a doll today—
she's cloth with a white eyelet dress
and a matching Sunday bonnet.
I named her Kyrielle Elise.
I'll slowly ruin her. At this point I haven't picked up kyrielle as a form, but the doll is a nice set up for it

It can't just be me that wants to thread
a series of cuss words together
and call it a rondolet.it certainly isnt
Mother tried to teach me to sew,
grow my patience for precision-
cutting patterns. She relented
when I broke the sewing machine's needle.

Don't you ever itch to start bitching
people out mid ghazal? It can't just be me.not really frustrated at the things around but the ghazal is making everything around more grating
Does the ceiling fan resume its metronomic clicking,
and the cat shock you with her tail
while she seduces your leg?
Maybe your neighbor's trash can
scrapes the pavement like a dragging muffler
as they heave it clumsily
to the curb. I like your descriptions throughout everything 

I imagine myself melding with a madrigal
the way a man merges with his machine, do women merge with machines? Maybe 'man merges with machine'
like Chuck Yeager and his Glamorous Glennis, I don't know who this is but it sounds like a baseball player and his bat
punching a hole in the sky.
I could meld with a machine
if I burned alive in its wreckage.
My refrains would have been the glory
of a 1840's schoolmarm: they snore
like the moral for a boring story. Comma after snore? I can't get morals snoring, maybe you dont need the last line at all

Exploring Elizabethans makes me feel I'm guessing Elizabethan is a sonnet because of Volta later
like I'm living my nightmare
where I try to call emergency
but my fingers won't push the numbers
in the right order. In a sudden volta
that can only be achieved in dreams, I do love this Volta that can only be achieved in dreams
I realize that I'm not holding a phone
but a blender, and my conceit why are you holding the blender? Oh this is a dream blender works, subconsious wants mix everything up
is colorless inside. Please confess: this makes the poem not about the writing anymore, it enhances the frustrations that lead to the writing, like a sudden Volta your poem here has a good amount of redirection throughout all tied together by a solid theme.  
it's not just me.

So I think your poem here is pretty great, if i could suggest anything that might improve it it would be to show the forms you mention whether you state them or not.  

[Lizzie]

Hey Crundle, thanks for taking some time with it. Appreciate the read and the critique.