From 2764ce38ff89667fc4073fb66cdd634caaffd613 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Case Duckworth Date: Thu, 12 Mar 2015 13:01:16 -0700 Subject: Fix #9 - ekphrastisize some poems For ekphrastic articles, add `ekphrastic` node to YAML metadata. This node includes subnodes `image`, `title`, `alt`, `link`, and `class`. `image` provides a link to the local image--just include the file name with the extension, not the folder (all images should be in /img/.) `title` provides the title of the image, and the alt-text, if there is no `alt` node. `alt`, if it exists, provides the alt text for the image. `link`, if present, wraps the image in an `` tag--it should point to the source web page of the ekphrastic image. `class`, if present, sets the class(es) for the image, for styling. In this commit, I've set `ekphrastic` on the four articles that have them so far: 'The Death Zone,' 'AMBER alert,' 'The moon is gone,' and 'Man.' I've also updated .template.html with the changes, and updated README.md to reflect the changes in YAML structure. --- ronaldmcdonald.html | 19 +++++++++---------- 1 file changed, 9 insertions(+), 10 deletions(-) (limited to 'ronaldmcdonald.html') diff --git a/ronaldmcdonald.html b/ronaldmcdonald.html index 0e8bf5d..0b2274a 100644 --- a/ronaldmcdonald.html +++ b/ronaldmcdonald.html @@ -37,16 +37,15 @@ -
-

When Ronald McDonald takes off his striped shirt,
his coveralls, his painted face: when he no longer looks
like anyone or anything special, sitting next to women

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in bars or standing in the aisle at the grocery,
is he no longer Ronald? Is he no longer happy to kick
a soccer ball around with the kids in the park,

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is he suddenly unable to enjoy the french fries
he gets for his fifty percent off? I’d like to think
that he takes Ronald off like a shirt, hangs him

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in a closet where he breathes darkly in the musk.
I’d like to believe that we are able to slough off selves
like old skin and still retain some base self.

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Of course we all know this is not what happens.
The Ronald leering at women drunkenly is the same who
the next day kicks at a ball the size of a head.

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He is the same that hugs his children at night,
who has sex with his wife on the weekends when they’re
not so tired to make it work, who smiles holding

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a basket of fries in front of a field. He cannot
take off the facepaint or the yellow gloves. They are
stuck to him like so many feathers with the tar

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of his everyday associations. His plight is that
of everyone’s—we are what we do who we are.

-
+ +

When Ronald McDonald takes off his striped shirt,
his coveralls, his painted face: when he no longer looks
like anyone or anything special, sitting next to women

+

in bars or standing in the aisle at the grocery,
is he no longer Ronald? Is he no longer happy to kick
a soccer ball around with the kids in the park,

+

is he suddenly unable to enjoy the french fries
he gets for his fifty percent off? I’d like to think
that he takes Ronald off like a shirt, hangs him

+

in a closet where he breathes darkly in the musk.
I’d like to believe that we are able to slough off selves
like old skin and still retain some base self.

+

Of course we all know this is not what happens.
The Ronald leering at women drunkenly is the same who
the next day kicks at a ball the size of a head.

+

He is the same that hugs his children at night,
who has sex with his wife on the weekends when they’re
not so tired to make it work, who smiles holding

+

a basket of fries in front of a field. He cannot
take off the facepaint or the yellow gloves. They are
stuck to him like so many feathers with the tar

+

of his everyday associations. His plight is that
of everyone’s—we are what we do who we are.