Tapping lazily, but doggedly, the lovelorn poet composes a song in praise of his dream amour. To deliver it, though, he is demure: cowered by a muzzle like a dog’s, voice like a frog’s, moves like a bump on a log. Oh, for a way to extend his compliments to the one he adores, without rudely awakening her scorn!
I’d like to say that parody is a celebration of a person’s specific characteristics, as opposed to mockery
GODSLAUGH.ME 