ronaldmcdonald.html


1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49

<!DOCTYPE html>
<!-- Template for compiled 'Autocento' documents -->
<html>
<head>
    <meta charset="utf-8">
    <meta name="generator" content="pandoc">
    <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0, user-scalable=yes">
    <meta name="author" content="Case Duckworth">
    <!-- more meta tags here -->
    <title>Ronald McDonald | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="css/_common.css">
        <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="css/verse.css">
            <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="css/elegies.css">
        <!--[if lt IE 9]>
    <script src="http://html5shim.googlecode.com/svn/trunk/html5.js"> </script>
    <![endif]-->
    </head>
<body>


    <header>
        <!-- title -->
        <h1 class="title">Ronald McDonald</h1>
        
                    </header>

    <section class="thing verse">
    <p>When Ronald McDonald takes off his <a href="theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html">striped shirt</a>,<br />his coveralls, his painted face: when he no longer looks<br />like anyone or anything special, sitting next to women</p>
    <p>in bars or standing in the aisle at the grocery,<br />is he no longer Ronald? Is he no longer happy to kick<br />a soccer ball around with the kids in the park,</p>
    <p>is he suddenly unable to enjoy the french fries<br />he gets for his fifty percent off? I’d like to think<br />that he takes Ronald off like a shirt, hangs him</p>
    <p>in a closet where he breathes darkly in the musk.<br />I’d like to believe that we are able to slough off selves<br />like old skin and still retain some base self.</p>
    <p>Of course we all know this is not what happens.<br />The Ronald leering at women drunkenly is the same who<br />the next day kicks at a ball the size of a head.</p>
    <p>He is the same that hugs his children at night,<br />who has sex with his wife on the weekends when they’re<br />not so tired to make it work, who smiles holding</p>
    <p>a basket of fries in front of a field. He cannot<br />take off the facepaint or the <a href="roughgloves.html">yellow gloves</a>. They are<br />stuck to him like so many feathers with the tar</p>
    <p>of his everyday associations. His plight is that<br />of everyone’s—we are what we do who we are.</p>
    </section>

    <nav>
                <a href="roughgloves.html">
            <span class="prevlink">&lt; Rough gloves</span>
        </a>
                <a href="#" id="lozenge"> &loz; </a>
                <a href="moongone.html">
            <span class="nextlink">The moon is gone and in its place a mirror &gt;</span>
        </a>
            </nav>

</body>
</html>