the raven on prozac

If Edgar Allan Poe were on Prozac, I believe this is how he would have written one of his most famous works, The Raven.  For reference, this is the original version.  Enjoy.

Once upon a day of sunny delight, while I pondered, lively and light,
Over many a electro and glorious catalogue of forgotten Ace of Base,
While I jiggied, close to clapping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of a bouncy beat rapping, tapping at my happy place
"It's a beautiful life!" I fluttered, tapping at my happy place -
           Lighting up my happy face


Do you remember the twenty-first night of September?
Earth, Wind and Fire set the slow disco summer's end pace
Eagerly I wished for spring; -- vainly I thought it'd bring
Many a new plaything -- A new Sam, or Paul, or Chase
For I lust for the latest love to tap me in my happy place
        Giving me my happy face


And the booming beat bumped my booty across the floor
Thrilling me -- filling me with fantastic funk and a smile so bright
All I could say was "I will only ever listen to Ace of Base --
I will only ever listen to Ace of Base --
       They take me to my happy place"


Presently, my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer
"Bitch," I said "Look at your sexy booty bounce to the bass
Get your happy ass out dancing, surely they should see this prancing
There is no time for napping, napping only slows the pace"
I stepped outside, smiling wide, swiftly swinging to my place
        "I hope they're playing Ace of Base."


Moving along, I put the bass in my walk, head to toe, letting my whole body talk
Feeling fantastic, I flaunted my ferocity until I felt feces on my face
Flustered, I snapped my head around, I looked next to me, and up, and down
Finally spotting the fucker who shat on my face -- a raven pooping all over the place
"I'm on prozac, bitch! So go ahead and poop all over my face!"
        And he did, that raven pooped on my face.


Back to my strut I returned, as the poop in my eye, it burned
I wiped it away, wiping till there was no longer a trace
"Surely," said I, "surely that bird won't shit on my parade:
Let me work this sidewalk, let me give ya'll a taste --
See if you can handle this happy bitch, let me give ya'll a taste."
        I brought them to my happy place.


Open I flung the door to the club, hugged the bouncer, gave his butt a rub
Following me inside was the shitty raven, perching on a vase
"You perch there, bitch," said I, "I'm a work here, bitch."
And so, I danced my happy ass all over the place.
"Perch it while I twerk it all over the place."
       I said, smiling with my happy face.


I came quick out of that depression, now happy for days in succession
Now I spent my days in a drug-induced, delightful daze
Prozac was God's pharmaceutical gift to me, filling me with an empty glee
So persistently pleased, I proceed without mace
My cheerfulness would deter them, I proceed without mace
      No one fucks with this happy face


But that goddamn raven stared me down, somehow he made his beak frown
"But you're still unhappy, poop-stained friend, is that not the case?"
I paused at how philosophical he'd gotten, trying not to get downtrodden
"Prozac unleashes the light within me, helps me find my happy place"
I kept my booty moving, which helps me find my happy place.
      I wanted to smack that raven in his face.


"Honestly, it's my mind that needs savin'.  I'm fucking talking to a raven,"
Then he flew at me, pecking at my 80's inspired top made of lace:
Angrily, he chirped "fuck you.  I can talk.  And I have feelings too!"
And then the raven flew away, with only a dropping of poop left as a trace
My fleeting unhappiness flew away, with only a dropping of poop left as a trace
     And then I touched myself in my no-no place.


Not long after arriving on the dancefloor, I found someone to explore
To my home we went and we drank wine - we drank a case.
He complimented the colorfulness of my house, and the colorfulness of my lace blouse
"A year ago, you wouldn't have found even a square inch of color in this place,"
Stated I, "I was depressed, so there was no color in this place."
     Bored, he touched me in my happy place.


The day following, I sat for a while, and thanks to the P, I couldn't help but smile.
I sat and wrote this poem, and hadn't struggled with a single phrase.
Till I realized 18 stanzas were a lot to satire, even while consumed by this happy fire
burning inside my anti-depressed body all decked in lace.
So, I decided to stop at 12 stanzas and deck them all in lace
      opting instead to dance to Ace of Base.