Appears on re-Itori Pleads the 18th Dimension
Maysharp Mandlebarber likes playing in puddles
Maysharp Mandlebarber is eight years old
he wears three-corner hats and he sure likes a snowstorm
when his umbrella is broken he catches flakes with his tongue
can I ride on a carousel?
yes, when we find one
can I take a spin on a merry-go-round?
yes, but not now
that, young Mandlebarber, is a trampoline
Mandlebarber likes to sing karaoke
or else Mandlebarber will sing to himself
ten minutes of leisure is a hard thing to come by with so many distractions
can I eat a poached egg?
I don’t know, can you?
another thing when he sings karaoke
instead of the real words he makes up his own
that’s all well and good ’cause when he sings karaoke
more often than not he does it alone
Maysharp! stop playing in puddles
Maysharp! nice tree-corner hat
he’s wearing the garb of 1760
fluff-ruffled shirts and a tree-colored hat
clean your room, Maysharp
go clean your room
his favorite dish is surprise tuna casserole
his favorite Irish author is James Jim Jimbo Jimmy Joyce
he’s been known to speak in the third person
in a beauty pageant his talent would be throwing his voice
Maysharp wears reversible hand-me-down trousers
Maysharp puts his pants on one leg at a time
Maysharp Mandlebarber takes after his father
I wonder, will he make it to age nine?
Appears on The Balladeer
all I do is dream about Fatima
she’s my boo
I chased and caught a cheetah
I took her to the cleaner
she’s my queen, you shoulda seen her with her wedding gown
we were drivin’ around in my limousine with the top down
finest cuisine
I said, “Fatima, I’m never gonna leave ya
let’s start a family tree
someday you’ll be a mee-maw
I love you more than cheeba
you’re a goddess like Athena
no te amo un poquito porque es mucho señorita”
I was a gyro without a pita
fixed-gear bike without a streamer
a water pipe sans shisha, indica or sativa
ah but she’s such a diva
I’m never gonna please her
I called her and said “I’m done,
au revoir, Fatima”
roses are red
violets are green
I forget my colors when I think of Fatim
fantastic, amazing, tremendous, inspirational
magnificent, apple of my eye
she’s a feather in my cap
she’s alligator leather
a trip around the world, man, I shoulda checked the weather
my itinerary’s half full
a map of every capital
absentee ballot, honey
A is for apple
and on the subject of magnificent, a memorandum
myriad microscopic maidens modeling magnificent matching muumuus milked my magenta moo machine Monday morning mourningly
much, much more mostly macrobiotic milk might meet my messy, minty mouth
mmm
mahalo, maidens
MGMT
management
Appears on What the Fuck are the Blues?
the Library of Congress hired me to go down to the southern United States
to record some certified authentic rural American folk music
I stocked up my car with wax cylinders
and a jumbo-size battery to run the behemoth in the backseat
my recording machine is heavy but my biceps are large
it’s the land of milk and honey down here except instead of milk they got moonshine
and instead of honey they got grinding with loose women in juke joints
all odd hours of the night you find someone blowing that Mississippi sax
or plucking out their misery on a sweat-soaked misery-plucker
if I was as sad as they were I’d never even get out of bed
there’s nothing like an acoustic 12-bar blues being played in its natural habitat
preferably by a man in overalls on the front stoop of a shotgun shack
think of all the singing sharecroppers who might go undiscovered if I don’t do my job
when a convict hollers and nobody hears it
when a street preacher preaches into thin air
it crushes me, this white man’s burden
lord lord, them field recording blues
I boxed up my wax cylinders
headed back to Washington, DC
halfway the engine overheated
I was a candle on wheels
had to start over
lord lord, field recording blues
Appears on Poorest Almanac That Ever Lived
Ellis Island took a field trip to Baltimore
Lady Liberty tagged along
she did the breaststroke ’cause the island was crowded
they went to Fort McHenry
they met Francis Scott Key
they helped write the star-spangled banner
they said “oh say can you see”
Ellis Island went to the harbor
Ellis Island ate pizza
Lady Liberty ate pizza
no toppings
it was delicious
they went to a graveyard
they got the grand tour
they were chased by the ghost of Edgar Allen Poe
angry drunk and collapsing
they caught their breath
they didn’t need a hotel
it was a day trip
Ellis knew the statue was the age of consent
she signed her own permission slip
Ellis Island said “I wanna ride you like a mule
like a mule”
she asking for it, practically
being dressed like that
and did you see what was on the back of her sweatpants?
give me your privileged
your wealthy, your lame
get on, get on, I’m a mule
Appears on The Balladeer
Film Critic Yak is a film critic
sick of the pedestrian fare being pushed on the public
the last true champion of the arthouse flick
look out, Tinseltown, we’ll sic the yak on you
Film Critic Yak gives a standing ovation
that or gets up to put gum in the wastebin
Film Critic Yak chews popcorn loudly which is code “oh, now this is cinematography”
Film Critic Yak rustles and snorts
shares subjective opinions with brute force
Film Critic Yak bellows when there’s a yak on the screen and screams like a banshee during a flashback scene
Film Critic Yak claps with sarcasm unmatched and by chance falls asleep when the villain is unmasked
Film Critic Yak is all muscle and hair
stays awake for psychological thrillers
Film Critic Yak stays till the end of the credits
has a soft spot for best boys and grips
the Film Critic Yak is allergic to dust
just as fine a filmgoer as the rest of us
Film Critic Yak is all muscle and hair
thoughts and prayers for the usher
Film Critic Yak sprays neighbors with soda pop through a straw
Film Critic Yak is afraid of the sound of a chainsaw
Film Critic Yak clacks on a laptop nonstop
yaks have no fingers so correction
whispers into a portable microphone
Film Critic Yak sneaks in candy
Film Critic Yak raids the employee breakroom pantry
Film Critic Yak bellows and spins
scribbles notes as the montage begins
I give this picture five bales of hay
when have I ever led you astray?
if you miss one movie this summer let it not be this one
I’m the Film Critic Yak
you’d better listen
Appears on Bookbinding and Other Songs
Rattly Hotelface is Rattly Hotelface
what other details do you want?
he’s six foot six and hefty at times
smart enough to wear glasses
too stupid to wash them
double chins and multiple foreheads
never says excuse me
rumor goes he never cuts his fingernails
which wouldn’t be so bad except
he keeps this spreadsheet to track his manliest exploits
which base he gets to with what chicks
they’re always trying to lady their way out
but he never lets them
“there’s a blizzard outside” or some such thing
“you might catch cold
spend the night”
long story short
keep an eye on your drink
Appears on Skeletons
I don’t wanna take my pills even if you say I should
it’s not a real disease like Valentine’s Day is just a sham
I always have this dream in which I keep on getting crushed between the gears of some 600-ton machine
and no matter how loud I scream the screeching just gets worse
and my bones turn into powder and my flesh becomes my curse
and I can’t wake up without twitching in my sheets
I don’t wanna take my drugs even if they say I should
I’ve found I’m calmest watching other people cry
and I don’t know what to do
Appears on Winning Is Rhyming
got salmonella from eating chicken
it wasn’t cooked yet but man did it taste good and I’m tellin’ the truth
I broke my arm ’cause my pants were too long
walked ’round in a sling
couldn’t get any respect from anybody anywhere
I can’t believe the mess I’m in
it sometimes blows my mind
I don’t know what I wanna do but I don’t wanna stay
someone someone help me
all these smilin’ faces
cold front moving in
got struck by lightning
shoulda seen it comin’
my brain is oatmeal
now no matter how hard I try I can’t finish a thought
but I’m in control
I know where I live
I know my number
it’s 704 704 704-2516
Appears on Las Vegas or Bust
you been savin’ up all week for an early matinee
the one about the girl next to a fireplace
as the title sequence rolls she’s making gestures with her hands
the kid oozes sincerity
she was shot in black and white and that’s okay
a loud unpleasant person in the back starts making noise
says “aw, that’s adorable, she’s deaf”
lady in the front shouts “hey quiet down, you creep
don’t be so insensitive”
oh yes, the power of a good old-fashioned talking-to
when the little girl’s face gets covered in soot
licks her lips ’cause it tastes so good
she opens wide
speaks up says
“that’s one smoky fire”
her voice rings out while the subtitles fade
you gotta take her in on your own free will
but she won’t wait that long
no, she won’t wait that long
the guy in the back feels the need to explain
“I never called her deaf
what I said is she was doing sign language
and even if I said what you think I did
it’s not like she can hear us through the screen”
as if on cue the rear door opens
who should walk in but the star of the film?
everybody takes off their 3D glasses
she moves to the front to stare blankly at the audience
it’s a textbook case of folk child’s blues
she was raised by wolves so she’s sharp as a tack
it’s just she don’t know how to swim
no, she don’t know how to swim
Appears on Poorest Almanac That Ever Lived
meeting you was like reading for the first time a poem that doesn’t rhyme
you make me hypnotize the moon
and this is the sum of every lie I’ve ever told, hook line and sinker
for you, for you I pretend to like jazz
for you I pretend to like jazz
listening to anything from 1959 sent shivers down my spine
some days I never left my room
I blew out my eardrums and wreaked havoc on the walls from autumn till winter
for you, for you I pretend to like jazz
for you I pretend to like jazz
for you I bought these horn-rimmed glasses
for you I grew this fake goatee
I use bebop slang when I talk to myself not even knowing what I say even means
after I got through the box set you lent me I read the booklet that came with it
all these mythical figures suddenly seemed to be fountains of hot air and spit
they’re just slicked-up dudes chasing their intellects around
wearing suspenders lest their pants fall down
I don’t like jazz
it’s sensory overload
there’s too many notes
whose idea was it?
Appears on The Balladeer
just when it seemed like things were turning around for me Fate stepped in and got my dad sick
a clean bill of health is so precarious
they caught it too late for him to get treatment
broom in hand I stopped by the entrance to the TV room and he was still as a statue sitting
his dreary eyes were hidden and the news weren’t on for once
a faint flashing light
missed call from my cousin
Dad seemed so hollow all of a sudden
and then a far-off trembling voice
“hey there, son, I bought you four pounds of chocolate ’cause I know that it’s your favorite and I’m running out of time
doctor’s on the phone and she says odds are I won’t make it so take this token of my love and give your old man a hug goodbye”
that night he bolted up out of his easy chair out of a terrible dream, bawling
“I lost you and the whole family” was the only part he told me
“No, Pops,” I said, “it’s we who will lose you”
under my breath though I wondered what’s the difference
I’d never seen him in such a state before but by the break of dawn he’d calmed down
“I should have gotten you a healthy bag full of apples from the farmers market I took you to when you were just a kid
in a fraction of an instant they go from ripe to rotten back to the elements they came from just like my body did”
my father was a hero and a prince of a man
he lived to give others a sense of belonging
if the whole human race is a river of meanness he wasn’t merely swimming upstream
he built a dam
so here I am with four pounds of chocolate and I haven’t got the nerve to take a bite
could have been much worse as far as goodbyes go
this token of his love for me
Appears on Wintry Mix
my name’s Freddy Discharge
I was in the military
I do not miss it very much
I do not miss it very much
I don’t miss it much
I’d rather be a civilian than a camouflage-wearing chameleon
I’d rather have room and board paid for than be a millionaire
I was dishonorably discharged
listen, Sarge, I didn’t raise my fist
being part of something that is larger than yuorself is more important than your mental health
my name’s Freddy Discharge
I was in the military
I don’t miss it very much
I don’t miss it very much
I don’t miss it much
Appears on Cartoon Retribution for Cartoon Crimes
fucking ruthless-ass geeky tyrant
slick, wet and leaky as a fire hydrant
freaking out at the sound of a siren
I hate your guts but I must keep silent
took another cut from the company coffers
you should be abducted by flying saucers
you should get mauled by hostile monsters
velociraptors going bonkers
objective case pronoun
sadist in a ghost town
cactus prank on a merry-go-round
waitress prays for the flooding in a coast town
throwdown at a lost and found
you know the diff between minimal and minimalistic
fist full with a pistol and a soggy old fishstick
you’re a pitbull covered in lipstick
look, dipshit, quit being a dick
if I were your landlord you’d be evicted
you’re a quack pediatrish treating a sick kid
you flunked out of med school
spool of thread
muscular dystrophy
pencil lead
take a trip to Sicily
you consistently sicken me
did you just wink at me?
I’d rather you tickled me
you’re a bag of bricks tied to my feet tossed headfirst over a cliff on the Ionian Sea
mixing metaphors
no more tricks up your sleeve
I wish you’d leave
that’s exactly what I need
re: your punctuation here are my thoughts
I hope you choke on all your exclamation mark dots
it’s an open secret that you favor the whites
everybody’s seen you flying that race kite
you resent any person of color who outranks you but you tolerate them
you’re just being politic
oh, but if you outrank them they’re subhuman
you could destroy them
their demise is looming
you usually spare them out of the goodness of your heart
my conclusion: you’re a bigot
a bigot who, thank the culture gods, supports the lively arts
the mere sight of a number from your number or a letter from your name consumes me with rage
you should be locked in a cage
when I journal about you ink spills off the page
anger is contagious but it softens with age
you should be paid less than minimal wage
in a variety show you would be forced offstage
how forgettable, your favorite shade is beige
Schubert’s Four-Hand Fantasia is the theme for your rampage
if you ran for public office I’d never endorse you
orange juice pulp gulped by horny, gorgeous Cthulus
your fans have a right to their opinion, of course
aw, but they’re betting on the wrong fucking horse
fucking ruthless-ass geeky tyrant
exhausted your excuses
you lied to Byron
Shelley, Lovelance, Frankenstein
pantomiming funny faces for a friend of mine
hey Ada King of Lovelance, how those punchcards taste?
can you bifurcate that edamame paste?
sin on Mondays
church on Sundays
even making ice cream sundaes
you’re not my boss
you’re not a blase colleague
honestly, you’re a closet neo-Nazi
only one thing separates you from a Nazi: Nazis don’t update their resume
speaking of which, I gotta work on mine ’cause it’s clockout time and I got checks to sign
I’d rather not find myself in the unemployment line
not tryin’ to dine on pickle brine
my library fines summed double your cellar of wine
your allies, those swine, have no spine or they’re blind to it
I’m kinda tired of the being nice to you grind
unwind them puppet strings and choke yourself
Appears on Album, Overrated
funky funky me me eating a pear
funky funky me me eating a pear
funky funky me me eating a pear
I’m funky and i’m eating a pear
there are songs about girls and songs about drugs
and songs about girls that are really about drugs
and songs about drugs that are really about girls
but this is a song about someone taking a Bartlett pear and a microphone and a wah wah pedal
and eating the pear with the mic plugged into the wah wah pedal and recording it
in other words, me being funky eating a pear
funky funky me me eating a pear
funky funky me me eating a pear
funky funky me me eating a pear
I’m funky and I’m eating a pear
Appears on Greg Reinfeld & the Opinionettes
when you’re elected President for life
you’ll have both houses of Congress on your side
just one obstacle stands in your way
you’re 42 and still a bachelor
an iron fist won’t win you many friends
consolidate your power while you can
having a better half keeps the critics at bay
how bad a person could you be if someone married you?
a physics professor named his daughter Inertia
she did a stint in the Peace Corps then moved back home
she signed up at the Bank of Municipal Whores
all this paperwork and she’s yours
Inertia here will lose her maiden name
not once will she nag you or complain
her priority is to smile and wave as you manifest destiny the world