eotmeote interlude

(While we wait for Paper Chef formalities)

It’s been a long time since I entered an eotmeote, but I couldn’t resist this one. As some of you (well maybe only Jeanne) I like writing verse parodies. And this time it had to be of a favorite poem/poet.

I like Shelley anyway, but this poem is the epitome of savage political satire – someone needs to rewrite it about the current American government – highly ironic of course since the government in question was one under George III – although well after the American Revolution.

Anyway, here are the first few stanzas that are all I am capable of parodying.

As I lay asleep in Italy
There came a voice from over the Sea,
And with great power it forth led me
To walk in the visions of Poesy.

I met Murder on the way –
He had a mask like Castlereagh –
Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
Seven blood-hounds followed him:

All were fat; and well they might
Be in admirable plight,
For one by one, and two by two,
He tossed them human hearts to chew
Which from his wide cloak he drew.

Next came Fraud, and he had on,
Like Eldon, an ermined gown;
His big tears, for he wept well,
Turned to mill-stones as they fell.

Castlereagh and Eldon are the first of several members of the British Parliamentary cabinet at that time who are mentioned in the poem. They are all being led by anarchy and death in a grim procession – they had just quelled with bloody brute force a demonstration against current government policies.

The poem ends on an upbeat note however, much like my breakfast…

But on to more pleasant things – eggs scrambled with mushrooms and scallions on toast.

As I lay asleep in the USA
There came a voice from over the Sea
And with great power it forth led me
To find an answer that was eggy.

I met bread upon the way –
It had a mask like Dick Cheney –
Very pale it looked, not brown;
Seven mushrooms followed down;

All were plump; and well they might
Be in a buttered garlic plight,
For one by one, and two by two,
I tossed them in the fat to stew
Which in a pan I’d heated true.

Next came scallions, very green,
Unlike Bush, and sliced thin;
And last, four eggs, beaten well,
Turned to gold, a lovely smell.

There – that’s all I can manage in a hurry – I had more time when I did the Two Gentlemen of Verona one.