No plagerism at all. Its a final paper and I have to turn it in to turnitin.comYou will write an irony essay according to the following requirements: compare and contrast the irony in two poems Compar

No plagerism at all. Its a final paper and I have to turn it in to turnitin.com

Its an irony prompt that is timed. I have 2 hours to write it but im allowing 7-8 hours.

You will write an irony essay according to the following requirements: compare and contrast the irony in two poems 

Compare and Contrast of Irony in“Richard Corey” by Edward Arlington Robinson  and “How it Will End” by Denise Duhamel

• Compose a five paragraph paper with a clear introduction (including thesis statement), body, and conclusion
• Paper must be 450 words minimum and meet the posted essay rubric expectations
• Follow the MLA formatting guidelines (Hacker, pp. 462-470)
• Use MLA citation format (Hacker, pp. 399-463)
• Research is required (two resources, external to textbook)
• Include a Works Cited page (not included in word count) (Hacker, p. 470)
• Refer to the sample essay in MLA format (Hacker, pp. 465-469)

Poem How it will end

We're walking on the boardwalk

but stop when we see a lifeguard and his girlfriend

fighting. We can't hear what they're saying,

but it is as good as a movie. We sit on a bench to find out

how it will end. I can tell by her body language

he's done something really bad. She stands at the bottom

of the ramp that leads to his hut. He tries to walk halfway down

to meet her, but she keeps signaling don't come closer.

My husband says, "Boy, he's sure in for it,"

and I say, "He deserves whatever's coming to him."

My husband thinks the lifeguard's cheated, but I think

she's sick of him only working part time

or maybe he forgot to put the rent in the mail.

The lifeguard tries to reach out

and she holds her hand like Diana Ross

when she performed "Stop in the Name of Love."

The red flag that slaps against his station means strong currents.

"She has to just get it out of her system,"

my husband laughs, but I'm not laughing.

I start to coach the girl to leave the no-good lifeguard,

but my husband predicts she'll never leave.

I'm angry at him for seeing glee in their situation

and say, "That's your problem—you think every fight

is funny. You never take her seriously" and he says,

"You never even give the guy a chance and you're always nagging,

so how can he tell the real issues from the nitpicking?"

and I say, "She doesn't nitpick!" and he says, "Oh really?

Maybe he should start recording her tirades," and I say

"Maybe he should help out more," and he says

"Maybe she should be more supportive," and I say

"Do you mean supportive or do you mean support him?"

and my husband says that he's doing the best he can,

that's he's a lifeguard for Christ's sake, and I say

that her job is much harder, that she's a waitress

who works nights carrying heavy trays and is hit on all the time

by creepy tourists and he just sits there most days napping

and listening to "Power 96" and then ooh

he gets to be the big hero blowing his whistle

and running into the water to save beach bunnies who flatter him

and my husband says it's not as though she's Miss Innocence

and what about the way she flirts, giving free refills

when her boss isn't looking or cutting extra large pieces of pie

to get bigger tips, oh no she wouldn't do that because she's a saint

and he's the devil, and I say, "I don't know why you can't just admit

he's a jerk," and my husband says, "I don't know why you can't admit

she's a killjoy," and then out of the blue the couple is making up.

The red flag flutters, then hangs limp.

She has her arms around his neck and is crying into his shoulder.

He whisks her up into his hut. We look around, but no one is watching us.

 Poem Richard Cory

Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored and imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked, But still he fluttered pulses when he said, “Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked. And he was rich--yes, richer than a king-- And admirably schooled in every grace: In fine, we thought that he was everything To make us wish that we were in his place. So on we worked, and waited for the light, And went without the meat and cursed the bread; And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet through his head.