I wanna be a poetry star.
Whay aren't there any?
I mean, sure there's famous poets,
But most of them are dead.
I say it's all in the marketing.
Someone's gotta add some panache to poetry,
And I'm just the man to do it.
First of all, no berets and all-black outfits.
That's where it's at.
I'm gonna memorize my poems.
I'll just grab the mic, and start spouting.
I'll stand like buddy from Metallica,
And recite my PO-AH-TRAAEEEAYYY-ah!
Sentences will be punctuated with James Brown noises. Ungh!
I'll slam to my knees and stage hands will cover me with a red-white-and-blue cape but then I'll come running back to the mic for more, baby!
Jump back! Wanna kiss m'self!
I'll do covers.
But I'll put my own twist on them;
"In Xanadu did Kublai Kahn,
A stately pleasure-dome decree.
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go."
How 'bout something newer, fresher, hipper;
"Yo yo yo Kublai Muthafuckin' Kahn!
I be chillin' in yo' crib fo'evah , G!"
Boys will run around,
smashing into each other.
Girls will bounce up and down,
hoping I look at them.
For my big final number,
I'll grab a copy of my selected works,
and light it on fire.
Then I'll start throwing it against the wall.
Get the roadies to mic it.
Crank the high-end, dude!
Make that fucker squeal!
Listen to that tone!
And the sustain!
Oh, god, the sustain!!