From the Archives

I recently stumbled upon a poem I had written for my poetry class in which we were assigned to respond to a piece of poetry using poetry. I chose Johnathan Swift’s “The Lady’s Dressing Room.” Swift is just too misogynistic and arrogant that I just had to write a response to his poem.

October 23, 2007

A Swift Response

Strephon returned to his humble abode,
And hung his coat near a patch of mold.
Disgusted, he was, at Celia’s chamber,
Forever scarred, he wish he could tame her.
He then began to plot and plan
Of ways to get her to wash her hands.
Suddenly his world turned upside down
As he fell, face first, into the ground.

“Why am I on the floor,” he muses,

To find that he slipped on his own juices
Of last night’s relentless carnal lust,
For the slightest glimpse of Celia’s bust.
For though the image of her chamber remained,
He could not help but become insane
Over the thought of such a fine lady.
And forgave, perhaps, maybe,

Her chest that no man was meant see.

His fall punishment for his audacity.
For as he lay, staring at the ceiling,
Seeking redemption for what he was feeling,
A chandelier fell from the heavens above
And ended his life and well as his love,
For fair Celia, who never received
Vindication for Strephon’s curiosity.

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