Any title suggestions?  I’m performing this tonight for the first time down in Tucson tonight with the team.  I know what it looks like, but give this poem a chance, it may not be what it appears to be… <..< >..>

You were the soundtrack of my youth.
You only had 50 years to change the world,
blatant sex appeal forcing parent everywhere
to purchase extra parental control features,
Imitated and ridiculed, you were a kid at heart.

You had me convinced.  Maybe, you had us all fooled.
But when you came to life on the screen,
a puppet-less string,
through the white noise of mediocrity,
rhythmic preaching like a lullaby in stereo
MTV, BET, The Home Shopping Network,
Billy Mays,
We believed you.

You could have been that one dad
at baseball games in a Snuggie.
You could have pried us with insulting weight-loss supplements,
wouldn’t it be nice if there was a little less of you?
You could have been sponging the blood of a hooker
from the linoleum with a Shamwow,
“Will It Blend?”

But you chose to teach us
to harness the power of oxygen
for its stain fighting abilities,
If only you could have used it
to breathe a little longer.
Now the clouds are bleached brighter and whiter, but the
pearly gates retain their bold shiny sheen.
You could sell a sin to God, Billy Mays
make us worship a Plater Grater, wonder what would happen
if you could combine a cheese grate with a plate
pray for cleaner cuts, Mend-Its and Slap Chops
cry out, Hallelujah, long live your laundry

We all know now that two Awesome Augers
are better than one.
Because that’s twice as many augers.

Why settle for less?
When you can have it all for $19.99
But wait, there’s more,
We’ll pay to eradicate stains
Bleach blank slates, present the immaculate home
with whiskey in the cupboard and sauce on the stove
The knives are never dull
unlike the dinner guests.
Hang up photo-shopped smiles with Hercules Hooks
use mighty putty instead of nails, leave no trace
Never dice up your soul,
Only mince words
Slice your way into our hearts, eternally sharp
take pride in the quality of destruction

We’ll take glass-bottomed boat tours over your grave.
But we can’t buy now
not from a ghost, who won’t accept visa.
We can’t save more
not when we couldn’t save you.
I’m still on the line, still waiting out the dial tone
we can’t hang up the phones
rerunning shows, we won’t give you up just yet
How could you, of all people Billy Mays,
Get such a raw deal?

You can wrinkle your nose
But here everything
smells like citrus