When I consider how my shit is flushed,
Ere half my days on this sad seat and wide,
And that foul stench that smells like something died
Filled me with disgust, and high ideals crushed
To wipe therewith my butthole, and present
My true account, lest bathroom-users chide;
“Doth God review the toilet-paper side?”
I grimly ask. The vent-fan, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need
Either tissue or a new roll. Who best
Clean their smeared ass, their slate is clean. To think
Is one thing, nature’s urgent call to heed
Is quite another; Milton said it best:
They also serve who only sit and stink.”
after all, it’s Excremental Health Awareness Month!
John Milton (1608-1674) Sonnet XIX
PROMPT 14:
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.
CONNECT/HOOK 
At first I wanted to write: Well, Milton did not foresee that circle of hell, but then it occurred to me that I confused him with Dante. So I tried to make up for it with coming up with a Paradise Lost quip, but as you can tell: I failed. So now my mind is stuck on Satan and beautiful verse…forgive me, it is Friday, it was a long week, and my mind is so stuffed with random bits of literature that we can go from Marlowe to e.e. cummings in five seconds straight. I will say, however, that I enjoyed this poem — it takes an artist to make shit beautiful, but it appears that there is nothing that well-crafted verse cannot elevate!
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I thought it was a bit much… but I had started with the first line months ago when I was in a foul mood and then realized I could complete it for this prompt. . May Milton’s Muse forgive me.
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