It was an ancient beardy man
He shoppeth at a mall.
He stopped we three at the HMV,
Croaked, "Wherefore Shoppst thou y'all?
There isn't much to see here boys,
This place is such a mess—
Your HMV and A&F
GNC and CVS.
Besides, CDs are second rate.
I've scoured every shelf.
My time is better spent at home
Playing with my iTouch myself.
But now you want to buy some songs,
You've heard your idols sing 'em
And you will learn the words by heart
And make your cell phone ring 'em.
These tunes will show your music tastes
Are unsophisticated
Unless you heed my sage advice,
So sit and listen, sated."
Then launched he into glass-eyed tales
Of bands and concert t-shirts.
We list'ned till our ears were sore,
He spoke until his teeth hurt.
At last, we asked him for advice.
"Most groovy to the max, son"
He stared hard at the Cinnabon,
"Is surely Michael Jackson"
My friend replied, "Was he the one
Who knew Diana Ross?"
The reply, a bold, full-throated yell,
"I killed the albatross!"
My friend, alarmed, he backed away.
My other friend was flirting
With some short-skirted Asian girl
Although his game was hurting.
He scratched yon pimples, touched his hair
And laughed like wounded porpoise.
The girl leaned back, too petrified
To move like rigor mortis.
So I, alone, bemoaned my fate.
I had to take my lumps
And find a ringtone to replace
That Fergie and her humps.
But yet, this Jackson I knew not—
The beardy-man was gone.
I couldn't ask him who was better:
MJ or Madonn.
So I was lost at sea, not knowin'
Just who this Jackson was.
I couldn't ask my family.
No reason. Just because.
And I've been told by Fox & Friends,
"Trust not the mainstream media!"
Instead, I found a surefire source—
I searched the wikipedia.
How soon mine jaw did hit the floor
Amazed by the accomplishments
I found he had achieved in life.
How strong! Like Altoid mints!
For instance, when he was a lad,
He formed the Jackson Five.
Reuinion Tour is put on hold
Since Michael's not alive.
Recorded many famous songs
Like Billie Jean and Bad
And Pleasure Principle and Steppin'
Out—that dude was rad.
But more impressive than his music
Were projects literary—
He was lesser known for writing fiction
You all recall the scary
Story all about the town
That cracks like novice pottery
And stones a man to death each year?
That's Michael Jackson's "The Lottery"
And though his frame was lean and frail,
No one can guess the toils
His muscles took whilst playing for
The Raiders and the Royals
And was a star for both! It was
A surely brighter candle
Than when he bet against himself—
The White-Glove-Black-Sox Scandal!
Success he'd too in politics.
He must've wowed the ladies...
Our seventh President! (Though Reagan
Beat him in the eighties).
An actor too—an SNL
Alum who turned quite racy
With his most mem'rable character:
Dawson's buddy Pacey.
But if you had to choose a feat
And call it number one,
You'd have to choose the way he fought
At the Battle of Bull Run.
So as I marveled at his life,
Whilst sitting in my home,
I took my pen and paper book
And wrote that man a pome.
"O Jackson, My Jackson"
O Jackson, my Jackson, your fragile journey's done.
There will be no more scandals like that time you held your son
Aloft the clamouring crowd below from your Best Western balcony
(Mayhaps you meant to teach him flight, like some new infant falconry).
But O heart! Heart! Heart! Heart! Heart!
I'm really really sulkin'
You've ventured from your home alone
Touché, Macaulay Culkin.
Forever we'll remember songs from Jackson Five and Thriller
And maybe even later hits from when you were more vaniller.
No more your ears will hear the taunts of Wacko, Freak or Pedo
No more your eyes will see the kids retreating from your bed-o.
Come Jackson! Come father!
Come LaToya, Janet, Tito!
Moondancer, Prancer!
Su baila es finito!
Mike Jackson doesn't answer me, his lips are made of plastic.
His skin, it cloaks his melty face like mournful beige elastic.
The falcon has now flown away, O yes, the falcon beat it.
I hope it didn't steal your shiny silver glove and eat it.
But rest, fleet Jackson, rest awhile
From Papa Razzi's troubles.
Perhaps you should've spent less time
With kids and more with Bubbles. |
An old man stops three gallants outside a music shoppe inside the Berkshire Mall
This is a reference to American Idol, a popular television show.
The old man calls the gallants' music taste unsophisticated
See Gentle Dental for all of your toothache needs
The King of Pop, recently dead
I'm not entirely sure what rigor mortis means, but I am pretty sure it has something to do with zombies.
Her lovely lady lumps. Check it out!
a
Fox & Friends is a news show that tells it like it is.
You'd recognize these songs. One of them starts off with "Ba ba ba ba ba ba baaa"
This story is seriously messed up, but in an awesome way.
Mike knows football.
Michael Jackson is the reason why our presidents can no longer serve more than five terms.
The first one. He disappointed in the sequel.
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