[Catherine Chandler]

I agree with James. Such entries are not "blind". I had no idea so many of them were already workshopped here!

[Michael Cantor]

I'm in the minority here - wasn't crazy about this one. Humdrum and familiar all the way. Admittedly, I was never a big sitcom fan either. On the other hand, I really liked the two excerpts that Roger posted. I don't think the poem captured that level of goofiness.

[Mary McLean]

This one packs more of an emotional punch for me than most. I was a big fan of Lucy in reruns as a child, and their divorce may have been the first one I'd ever heard of. The sonnet seems to subtly say a lot about the nature of marriage -- nobody has commented on the first line, but I think it hints at the off-screen problems in everybody's life and relationships.
I understand other people's qualms about some of the language, but it doesn't trip me up particularly (and yes, like Susan I also use 'alas' in conversation). This is one I think I will remember the longest, although I have no memory of it or any of them being workshopped previously. Not sure if that's my neglect of the Sphere or incipient Alzheimer's.

[David Danoff]

Amplifying Mary's comments, part of what I like about this one--and what helps to lift it over my admitted bias against the subject matter--is the frame: the marriage of the speaker and his wife, subtly reflected in the marriage of Lucy and Desi.

The poem describes a husband observing his wife from offscreen, warmly appreciating what she does, even as he stands apart from it. And it enacts a speaker observing something his wife loves, offering the poem as his own appreciation, even as he stands apart.

I hear two meanings in "he's all in--/and so are we." And the title's reference to Lucy and Desi's shared venture seems to hint at the way any couple can become fused into one entity, even if it doesn't magically remove all the cracks and divisions.

[Jennifer Gordon]

[She was a Diane, I believe, whatever that signifies.]
This happily tenders a sense of being there lost in whichever episode invoked, albeit seems a conglom in lieu of that effectively renders the image of whom the sonneteer would rather consider, this stanza proving too convenient for the thought in hand thereby.
Kick me, but now I've got black and white and Lucy's face swimming in my head while I navigate a poor attempt at critiquing.
Perhaps what too poignantly assesses society in this number is the painful fact men seem typically less at fault than women in broken relationships, the sonneteer illustrating it almost subtly herein.
I could take issue with that rather manufactured term in L6, but capricious metre atones for that impossibly mouthful as we swallow the pill with a sober laugh.
Elsewise I enjoyed how the stanza tenders a definite flavour of what it invokes.

[Martin Rocek]

I am afraid that I agree with Michael Cantor--it is competent, but not particularly moving or entertaining. It does not catch the humor of the two excerpts Roger linked to, it references it.

[Orwn Acra]

This is pleasant and well-written. It did not quite get my final vote because the initial thread -- comparing the speaker's love interest's interest to the speaker's own -- is dropped immediately. The sonnet turns to Desi but never turns back to the speaker; I guess I was expecting I Love Lucy to become a metaphor for the speaker's relationship. (Others have more or less noted this. I am not convinced there is enough of the speaker's own life in it.)

[Simon Hunt]

Yep, this one's mine. I feel very fortunate to be selected for this event, let alone to receive votes in it, so many thanks to Aaron and Alex and to everybody who commented above, voted for "Desilu," or otherwise participated in the Bakeoff. I love these events as celebrations of our community here.

Specific replies--

TSDG--Thanks again for choosing me and for your astute reading. I really do say alas all the time, and I'm the speaker here... I do think ILL is crucial American mythology, although, as in the poem, I don't find LB as funny as many do. The Scary Lucy statue, though? That's a riot...

Catherine--Thank you. I'd be curious what you'd do with those feet you don't care for. To my mind, they're important rhetorically in setting up the argument that, yes, the real-life marriage went bad and, anyway, Desi's distinctive laughter shouldn't be audible if he's not on screen--BUT for speaker and his love the viewing experience is uncompromised, indeed enriched. Thanks for the tip on the French phrase, which I'll troubleshoot. It's something I say but may never have written before.

Ron--Thank you.

Jayne--Thanks very much. So you knew it was me? And did you find your keys?

Roger-Thank you. I'm thinking about alas since it drew such comment here. But it's not alas the marriage was bad, but alas we KNOW the marriage went bad which knowledge could undermine our viewing pleasure... Thanks for the links to the scenes, although neither actually DOES have Desi's distinctive laughter. There's a similar phenomenon: Lucy's mother's distinctive laughter is sometimes audible on the soundtrack, and she sometimes says Oh, no! as a plot thickens...

Gail--Thank you. I like the trailer movie, too. It makes a great DIY double bill with Lost in America.

David--Thank you. See above about alas. You're right that it was a workshop edit, but I was pretty happy with it. I'm sorry to have set your teeth on edge but glad to have saved the day (as so often) with my wit and charm and grace. I'm really the David Niven of my generation... Thanks, especially, for your follow-up comments, after Mary, which really showed me that what I wanted to get across was reaching you. You may be interested in what I say to her below...

Julie--Thank you. Go ahead and grumble/whine.

Paddy--Thank you very much.

Dave--Thanks for stopping by.

Susan--Thank you. Point noted about lexicon. I'll just reiterate that I am the speaker and that I really do go around saying alas and mise en scene.

James--Thank you. The line you cite sounds natural to me, but I'm always eager to hear what sounds stilted to a reader. I addressed your concern about eligibility in the voting thread, and others have expressed views as well. For me, these are less contests than community celebrations, so it seems a given to me that the poems developed in the community should be eligible.

Michael--Thank you, but humdrum?! Screw you, Cantor. I got 5th place. No, just kidding. It's always good to have a contrary view, and this was always going to be too quiet a poem and too specific a topic for some readers (not to say that's all you're criticizing). I will say, though, that I wasn't aiming to depict the show's goofiness--but rather a scene of a couple viewing that goofiness.

Mary--Thank you very much. You and David (as well as the TSDG) picked up on what I'm trying to do with the first line and with the two occurrences of "we" later in the poem. It's supposed to be about myself and my wife as well as Lucy and Desi--and would have been even more stylish and Nivenesque as Nancy's anniversary gift this year had it not been three weeks late...

Jennifer--Thank you. I'm not sure I understand your remarks entirely, but I appreciate your take on my poem.

Martin--Thank you for your comments. I'm glad to be seen as competent now and again and also to know that your reading largely matched Michael's. You can see what I said to him above...

Orwn--Thank you. I'm glad you liked it a bit, and I get what you're saying about there not being enough on the speaker's own relationship. You can see David's second comment and Mary's comment for a good sense of what I was trying for in that regard--as well as my responses to them above. The speaker and his love are not supposed to be dropped after line 1, but it's helpful for me to know that it seemed that way to you.

I hope I haven't missed anybody. Thanks again, all!