April 5 NaPoMo 2021
Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month.

NaPM April 5, 2021

Topic: write a poem that is a parody or a pastiche of another, famous poem

Form: any

Line Requirement: any

Edward Gee Bastars

When I first came to fork creek
The weeds were tall as trees.
I hid off for days for the scent
To pass. A young girl brought
Me bread and cheese but
I had to run.
Managed to come back after
A good twenty it's only more
A creek cause the weeds shorter.
They could see me now but those
Old days are gone and I fixed cars
Til a snake jumped up out a barrel
And kicked it's venom in until
The only thing to do was leave
Me in my plot, and you wouldn't believe
That girl still brings me bread. No flowers,
No one knew me that well. No one but her.
Bread for the dead
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
In a Parking Garage of the Metro
by "EZ Carl" Pounder

so much descends

the shiny blue

glazed with white

parked under gray
The Juice That through The Steel Tube Shoves My Apple
by Nody Lan-Nothomas

The juice that through the steel tube shoves my apple
Hives my purple sage; that rusts the boots of Eve
Is my employer.
And I am bummed to sell the liquid hose
My mouth is spent by the lame century’s axle.

The juice that squirts the sour through the locks
Hives my white flag; that fries the molting seams
Burns mine to flax.
And I am bummed to molt unto my pains
How at the toilet door the same molt flocks.

The feet that furl the sour in the fool
Hurls the ink stand; that gropes the slowing skin
Calls my cloud frail.
And I am bummed to smell the ranging mouse
Now by my mud is paid the mouse-trap’s steel.

The teeth of crime screech to the mountain top;
Grubs flip and lather, but the sullen hood
Shall palm her corpse.
And I am bummed to fell a leather sin
Now slime has licked eleven round the bars.

And I am bummed to sell the atom’s bomb
Now at my feet rolls the lame liquid sperm.
"Take what you need and leave the rest"
See Ex Vie – Aye!

Let me not to the meeting of woke minds
admit encouragement:  woke is not woke
that alters not when it new triggers finds.
Nay, faith, it is an ever-changing joke
devoid of humor, by the Book of Face
prepared to call a person good or bad
depending on zer party or xis race
and bearded man a girl, or tart a lad.
A Tweet or text from ages lost to sight
woke resurrects to cancel recent heroes
their future livelihoods consigned to blight
for using too few exes or no zeroes.
    Vain Casanova was not so untrue
    as wokeness, let the Devil take his due.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
The Fish

She sails the seas with silken spines;
Amidst the waves in languid lines,
One with the turquoise tides, she shines.

The weathered rock above her looms;
She shelters in the tumbling spumes,
Then, like a submarine, she zooms.
Cow pats by William Curdsworth

I staggered drunken as a skunk
that falls flat faced o'er tit and ass
when all at once I saw the cows
a herd of flaming biomass
Across the field, through the trees
Pissing and shitting in the breeze.

Continuous as the calf's that came
And suckled on their milky teats,
They stretched a never-ending claim
beneath their mothers steady feet
Ten bullocks saw I at a glance,
Tossing heads and taking their chance.

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
Sonnet for the Murdoch sheeple

Since science, nor smarts, nor facts, nor rationality
but ignorance o'er-sways their power
how with the Fox-gloved shall reason hold a plea,
which is sweeter, though far less potent a flower?

O, how shall reason's calming breath hold out
against the Fox-hosts' cacophonous bays
to an audience who seldom seem to doubt
the world was made in the span of just six days?

O propaganda! Why is it always the black
guy's grinning face, the dirt on what he did
to the sophomore, and not the blanc's attack
on Asians, that Rupert doth forbid?

  The answer is - that's what the thick base buys.
  We'll all have a party when the vampire dies.
Eyes washed red No wonder his brain Split
Between the neat-ankled boy And unquenchable history Black
Poppies strewn naked about An unwearying field

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