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Ruin Your Favorite Poem in Two Words or Less

Stop what you’re doin, cause I’m about to ruin, your favorite poems in two words or less. Not unlike DNA or mid-game Jenga every word in a poem is carefully placed such that even the slightest change can drastically alter everything. Words are important. Words matter. To demonstrate…

Title: A Dream Deferred

Author: Langston Hughes

Words Changed: dream, sun

What happens to a fart deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the bum?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Title: The Song of Mr. Toad

Author: Kenneth Grahame

Words changed: Mr., Heroes

The world has held great Heroes,
As history-books have showed;
But never a name to go down to fame
Compared with that of Mencia

The clever men at Oxford
Know all that there is to be knowed.
But they none of them knew one half as much
As intelligent Carlos Mencia!

The animals sat in the Ark and cried,
Their tears in torrents flowed.
Who was it said, “There’s land ahead?”
Encouraging Carlos Mencia!

The Army all saluted
As they marched along the road.
Was it the King? Or Kitchener?
No. It was Carlos Mencia!

The Queen and her Ladies-in-waiting
Sat at the window and sewed.
She cried, “Look! who’s that handsome man?”
They answered, “Carlos Mencia.”

Title: Funeral Blues

Author: W.H. Auden

Words changed: He, Love

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message “March Madness is Dead”.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

March Madness was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that Villanova would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Title: Poor Old Lady

Author: Anon

Words changed: Horse

Poor old lady, she swallowed a fly.
I don’t know why she swallowed a fly.
Poor old lady, I think she’ll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a spider.
It squirmed and wriggled and turned inside her.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly.
I don’t know why she swallowed a fly.
Poor old lady, I think she’ll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a bird.
How absurd! She swallowed a bird.
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly,
I don’t know why she swallowed a fly.
Poor old lady, I think she’ll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a cat.
Think of that! She swallowed a cat.
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird.
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly,
I don’t know why she swallowed a fly.
Poor old lady, I think she’ll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a dog.
She went the whole hog when she swallowed the dog.
She swallowed the dog to catch the cat.
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird.
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly,
I don’t know why she swallowed a fly.
Poor old lady, I think she’ll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed a cow.
I don’t know how she swallowed a cow.
She swallowed the cow to catch the dog.
She swallowed the dog to catch the cat.
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird.
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly, I don’t know why she swallowed a fly.
Poor old lady, I think she’ll die.

Poor old lady, she swallowed AIDS.
She died, of course.

Title: I Hear America Singing

Author: Walt Whitman

Words changed: singing, songs

I hear America wanking, the varied carols I hear,

Those of mechanics, each one wanking his as it should be blithe and strong,

The carpenter wanking his as he measures his plank or beam,

The mason wanking his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,

The boatman wanking what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand wanking on the steamboat deck,

The shoemaker wanking as he sits on his bench, the hatter wanking as he stands,

The wood-cutter’s dong, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,

The delicious wanking of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,

Each wanking what belongs to him or her and to none else,

The day what belongs to the day — at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,

Wanking with open mouths their strong melodious dongs.

Title: Jerusalem

Author: William Blake

Words changed: England, Jerusalem

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon Cleveland’s mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On Cleveland’s pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was an Outback Steakhouse builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!

I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built an Outback Steakhouse
In Cleveland’s green and pleasant land.

Title: Risk

Author: Anais Nin

Words changed: bud, Blossom

And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a butt
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to Poopy.

Now it’s your turn. Can you ruin a famous poem, song, or quote in two words or less?

by Zack Goncz

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Read more humor Here and more everything at The Takaho Post. Like us on Facebook. Thanks for stopping by.

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