Back in my undergrad studies, I had the brilliant idea to write a modern Greek comedy. The play itself was full of superficial Greek mythology jokes, but was scrapped because it lacked heart. Some day I might revamp it. Today, after a conversation in my graduate Young Adult Literature class about teen sexuality, I recalled something that I did like about my play. I decided that I needed to share.
The play, in the true style of an Aristophanic comedy, was a series of episodes strung together by choral interludes. This form of Greek Drama was later mimicked in my Olympia Heights series. The poems, written in Sapphic stanzas of 11, 11, 11, and 5 syllables, are the odes, the interludes. Rhiannon Frater, author of The First Days, said in her Goodreads review of The Pantheon: “In fact, the flashback stories were so beautifully written I would read a whole book just with that writing style.”
The odes I wrote for this play, Oops! I’m Oedipus, were far less classically structured. The one I am about to share, I know by heart. I hope that it gives you a little chuckle on this cold, damp, Thursday morning (and I envy you if you’re somewhere that isn’t cool and wet right now).
It’s a funny thing, to give the name
and thus transfer the ancient fame–
To liken a condom to the Trojan horse,
should bring the consumer much remorse.
If you thought about the age-old tale,
the metaphor should make you wail,
for the wooden horse seemed friend, not foe,
as the people of Troy did not know
that once inside the walls of Troy,
the horse would burst and– boy, oh boy!
Greek seamen burst with a rallying sound
and burned the city to the ground.
So a contraceptive of this name
would seemingly be all the same.
Then who should trust the Trojan brand
to protect the consumer and withstand?