The full text of the work will appear at the bottom of these…
The full text of the work will appear at the bottom of these instructions. These requirements will be included in each questions to save you the trouble of having to repeatedly click back to them to review the details. Type directly into the box. Don’t worry about changing any of the formatting. Because you are working under a time constraint and do not have the benefit of spell check or any editing tools, I grade less strictly on grammar and punctuation for this assignment. However, work should be written at a college level and easy to follow. First person pronouns are permitted. Second person pronouns, contractions, and informal language are not. A Works Cited page is not required, but proper in-text citations for each quote are. For the work below, write a paragraph of a minimum of eight sentences in varying sentence structure. Include each of the following: the work’s title the author’s name a quotation from the work — integrated with your own sentence and properly cited. Be sure to explain the relevance of the quote you’re including. specific references to the poem and evidence of careful thought a discussion of the writer’s life and its relevance to the work a discussion of how the poem fits into this period of American literature (NOT how it’s relevant today) / represents something about American culture at the time description of the genre of poetry this is and how that relates to the author herself / himself After you’ve included the required items above, you may choose any of these optional items to guide the rest of your content. You may even choose the same one every time. your opinion of the work, good or bad, supported by specific references a discussion of the title’s significance a detailed response to a specific line or lines a comparison to another work, song, story, movie… an examination of literary techniques used, such as rhyme, rhythm, simile, metaphor, personification, allusion… a close analysis of the author’s diction, perhaps noting specific word choices, or connotation and denotation a paraphrase of the work a statement relating the work to your experience or ideas–Does it make you think of a particular time in your life? Does it remind you of some idea or thought you’ve had in the past? an explanation of why the work is relevant in today’s world You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time—— Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You—— Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I’m finally through. The black telephone’s off at the root, The voices just can’t worm through. If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two—— The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There’s a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.