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ROCK GODLET

I'm a pocket-sized rock star
resurrected and repackaged
to remind you of your past.
I am 1987 and I'm back!
With day-glow socks
and a song that rocks
and an empty space
between the look on my face
and anything on MTV.
I'm the bonus track
hidden at the back
of a compilation of losers.
I'm the extended dance mix
of a 70's disaster flick
where the airplanes crash
and I've blown all my cash
on a solid gold house
and M.C. Hammer pants.

(I'm writing a poem
about my one true love.
No angst.
No rage.
No hard-core haircuts.
Just my wife smiling
because she's the only one
who got the joke...)

About a pocket-sized rock star
resubmitted and refuted
to come and talk some smack.
I'm the ghost of 87 and I'm back!
with stupid skinny ties
and a song full of lies.
I'll be a legend for a day.
"I don't know...Is he gay?"
And somehow that will matter
for at least a couple hours
Then I'll fade out of sight
Like that one guy
with the sunglasses at night.
Now, what was his name?

(I'm writing a poem
based on a song
about a movie
taken from a novel
inspired by actual events.

I'm living proof that art
imitates art
imitating art
imitating art
imitating art
imitating life...)

And I'm a pocket-sized rock star
rescripted and committed
to bringing you the facts.
I am 1987 and I'm back!
with an arena sized ego
and I'm cruisin' in a Yugo
but the lights are never green.
I'm a low-rent Lou Reed
Not big enough to fall
so I just get jabbed
with the point of it all.
I've got the leather jacket
now all I need is talent
and a song about someone
who'll look good on VH1.
I've never been behind the music.
No one will care when I lose it
and drive my car into a wall
or do a concert at the mall

and I'm forgetting why
I wanted this in the first place.