First Edition, 2008
O, I also enjoy singing about America
When I am in the shower
O song—O awesome song,
O the mouth-song that comes out of my mouth,
Like food when I don't feel good.
O-hi-O, Cleveland is your capitol.
O, how this pen fits in my hand,
Like a magic microphone or something.
When I write, the words just plop out of it,
Out of me,
Me the poet.
I am a poet.
I contain multitudes.
My poem is so incredible that if you don't love it,
You are probably mentally retarded.
Whatever you like in life, that's me,
Except I am better. I am like a flying ice-cream cone
Surrounded by cute puppies and Webkinz.
I am a sunrise
Unless you are blind,
Then I must be a beautiful noise.
I am that scene in the Goonies when that large kid hath to do
The Truffle Shuffle.
Remember when stamps only cost 29 cents? That was me.
I am a singing butcher and a tire maker and a quality inspector
And a street vendor and an RA,
but not the lame kind that yells at you
and takes all of your beer.
I am a convenience store clerk, singing about
Things, I am a financial analyst. I am a philosopher—I explain platitudes.
I am a singing robot maker and
that guy on the infomercials with a moustache
Who sells Oxy-Glow—I display multi-tools.
I am a farmer and a banker and a knight.
"But that's not possible," you say.
"How can you be all of those jobs?
You must be totally awesome.
But tax-time must suck."
Washing and shaving is for faggots.
Don't worry though. If you don't like that line,
I'll take it out for the definitive 2021 edition of this poem.
Just let me know.
One time I saw a bunch of naked guys bathing under a waterfall like Niagra
My pants began expanding, like I'd taken a Viagra
I stood behind a window and couldn't look away.
I must've been thinking of Kathy Ireland or something, because I sure ain't gay.
Watching bathe multi-dudes.
Hey Cap'n, get up, this is awesome.
No seriously, you're going to want to see this.
I am the words in every book ever.
Even in ones from other languages like French or Irish,
I am in every song on the radio, even the really bad ones,
Except for "Who Let The Dogs Out?"
But I am in every other song. One refrain, many tunes.
I am on the walls of cavemen, and
I am all over the internet like that Numa Numa guy.
And I will be in whatever technology comes up next,
Like a datachip that you eat like a potato chip.
But for now, if you want to read this on the subway
You can always download it and put it on your