Poetic Parody/Satire: Second to Last Fig

I'm glad for a little snark today. ~CLEARS THROAT~

Our prompt today (optional, as always), will hopefully provide you with a bit of Friday fun. Today, I challenge you to 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 (more of a satire – though the dividing lines get rather confused and thin at times).

I have known of Edna St. Vincent Millay since high school and her poem First Fig. It was always taught, or at least brought up. I'm not sure if it really my favourite of her poem. It is the most famous. It reminds me of how busy our lives can be.

My "remixed" version of First Fig.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Second to Last Fig

You say to light a candle at both ends;
You realize the trouble with that, Lady?
That people from far and near will say
She sits in the dark with hot wax on her hands.

Last year for NaPoWriMo one of the topic was to rewrite a classic poem. I took one of my favourite poet, Robert Frost's poem. I turned it into a satire of the original, which is very similar to today's topic. I wanted to share it again with you, Dear Readers. I feel like it depicts today prompt better than what I wrote today. Both poems I consider to be "remixes". Maybe it will trend and more poets and writers will remix old classic poems or try remix their own works. Maybe I will try that after NaPoWriMo with the Poets Three (Rod, Jesi, and Lizzi). *hint hint*

U is for Using something again.

Yeah, that's a weak excuse, but I have a rather full weekend and honestly I can't think of a good U word to use, except USE. :-) Enjoy...

Walking by the Forest of Someone Wealthier than I

Whose lands are here, with POSTED signs along the way
to guard his unused and forgotten 150 acres of wilderness.
I doubt he knows that boys camp here or hunters make their way
on warm summer nights and the opening of the hunting season.

Max, my trusty Golden Doodle, here is barking at the trees
at the forest edge at unseen creatures stirring within--
I know that raccoons, possums live here, as do white-tailed deer
and once and a while, if I squint my eyes,  I can spot 'em.

His barking disturbs my stares at the thick pines and maples
tugging upon his lead, asking to go after the chase.
He can hear the night creatures as they wake
with trips of pine needles, but I have to go.

A short hike through these woods, I would love to take,
but the promises of legal pursuit are far too great.
And yet, I still I have to pee.
And yet, I still I have to pee.