Day 14 ... NaPoWriMo / Poem-a-Day 2023

Maureen Thorson’s NaPoWriMo prompt: “write a parody or satire based on a famous poem. It can be long or short, rhymed or not. But take a favorite (or unfavorite) poem of the past, and see if you can’t re-write it on humorous, mocking, or sharp-witted lines. You can use your poem to make fun of the original (in the vein of a parody), or turn the form and manner of the original into a vehicle for making points about something else.” Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-a-Day prompt: “write an 'And Now for Something Completely Different' poem. This prompt is inspired by the Monty Python skits that would suddenly shift gears, but your poem doesn't have to be humorous. It should aspire to be somehow different than what you've written so far this month. ” My poem today is a parody, though not of a famous poem as the prompt asks but rather of my own foibles as a poet. The "something totally different" vibe begins with the title, which is in lower case; I always capitalize my titles. autoparody     We wore wool. We     Felt full. We Those were going to be the opening lines of a parody of Gwendolyn Brooks today until the second prompt suggested “and now for something totally different” . . . and I realized I have written mainly in form this month, so it must be time for free verse. That parody was going to make fun of holidays where we gorge: Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, corned beef and cabbage on St. Paddy’s, Fourth of July BBQ. Brisket, beef brisket in a summer picnic basket. Uh-oh, I almost rhymed there. Watch out, impending rhyme flare! Can I write without decasyllabics? Can I break out of these rhythmic habits?     Maybe not haiku?     Or at least not talk in 5-     7-5 sylla—         And, oh God, heaven forbid the curtal         sonnet, to which the poetry machine         in my brain defaults. In fact, you may have         sensed I’m now four lines into a curtal         sonnet, and the next rhyme has to be “-een”         and the rhyme after that should be “-av” — STOP! Whoa, that was six lines of ten syllables each just now. The only way to stop writing in poetic form right now is to end this poem. Must stop. Must stop. Oh Wow. —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] Alan also worked with both prompts today but he indeed parodied a famous poem, [Buffalo Bill's] by E.E. Cummings. Click here if you don't know that poem in order to compare with Alan's send-up. [Governor Lee’s] Governor Lee’s fucked up                           who used to                           tout a secondamendment                                                                               gospel and break the                           firstdamnedamendment       gaggeditjustlikethat                                                                                             Jesus does not recognize him                                                       and what I want to know is how do you like NRA cash Mister Death —Draft by Thomas Alan Holmes    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ

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