Mighty Mango #9
I am a great and well-known poet. Don't be too impressed: it will force me to feign modesty, which I am poor at. Everyone comes to my shows and tells me I am a great poet, because I am. I am a fantastic motherfucking poet. I can rhyme anything.
Have you read those stories about autistic children, who are so good at math they don't need calculators? I think the show, or movie, "Mercury Rising" was about this? Okay. Now imagine that with rhymes. I am so good at rhyming I do not need a rhyming dictionary. Someone gave me one as a present once and we're not friends anymore. "I thought it would help." I hope you strangle in kelp! Rhymeburn!
Sometimes rap stars call me for help.
Sally (not a rap star) called once. Help! I'm on the seashore! What do I sell? SEASHELLS, SALLY!
I actually can rhyme the word orange, but I do not do it in public. It is a parlor trick. I was rhyming "annex the land" with "Mexicans command" before you were born, Holmes!
Yesterday at exactly the point in the day before it is the hottest it will get that day, I was talking to a man on a bench in the park in the city. His name was Tom. He pronounced it "Thom," but I, as a poet, think that is a stupid way to spell a name, so I spell it Tom. I spell it that way in my stories and in my poems, of which there are currently none about Tom, but there will be some. If you want to know why then listen.
Tom was in love with his girl. Bridget. He wanted to propose. He had seen my picture on billboards and things, so he sat down on the park bench next to me and he said: "Mercutio!" (My name is Mercutio. Not a stage name. Even at birth, my parents knew I needed a name that would scream EXCELLENT POET.)
Here is the poem I wrote for him.
Tom, get on an elevator and
push
every
button;
and at first she will be mad but
just
say
"what, hon?"
tell her you want to spend every
hour
with
her
including elevators, so will she marry you?
she'll
say
sure.
and she will kiss you and the other
passengers
will be
mad.
because you pushed every motherfucking button
and that
is
bad.
Have you read those stories about autistic children, who are so good at math they don't need calculators? I think the show, or movie, "Mercury Rising" was about this? Okay. Now imagine that with rhymes. I am so good at rhyming I do not need a rhyming dictionary. Someone gave me one as a present once and we're not friends anymore. "I thought it would help." I hope you strangle in kelp! Rhymeburn!
Sometimes rap stars call me for help.
Sally (not a rap star) called once. Help! I'm on the seashore! What do I sell? SEASHELLS, SALLY!
I actually can rhyme the word orange, but I do not do it in public. It is a parlor trick. I was rhyming "annex the land" with "Mexicans command" before you were born, Holmes!
Yesterday at exactly the point in the day before it is the hottest it will get that day, I was talking to a man on a bench in the park in the city. His name was Tom. He pronounced it "Thom," but I, as a poet, think that is a stupid way to spell a name, so I spell it Tom. I spell it that way in my stories and in my poems, of which there are currently none about Tom, but there will be some. If you want to know why then listen.
Tom was in love with his girl. Bridget. He wanted to propose. He had seen my picture on billboards and things, so he sat down on the park bench next to me and he said: "Mercutio!" (My name is Mercutio. Not a stage name. Even at birth, my parents knew I needed a name that would scream EXCELLENT POET.)
Here is the poem I wrote for him.
Tom, get on an elevator and
push
every
button;
and at first she will be mad but
just
say
"what, hon?"
tell her you want to spend every
hour
with
her
including elevators, so will she marry you?
she'll
say
sure.
and she will kiss you and the other
passengers
will be
mad.
because you pushed every motherfucking button
and that
is
bad.
posted by Anonymous at 6:40 PM
1 Comments:
I spell it Thom and I used to get teased for it all the time growing up. It's a painful freakin' memory, thanks for bringing that up. My pet turtle died when I was twelve, wanna talk about that, Mighty Mango? HUH?
Other than that, great story!
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