Jeff Gangwer

Rookie - 274 Points (September 23,1984 / Hood River, Oregon)

"Michael Jackson"


For my "big finish, "
They push me backstage,
Give me a black plastic fedora,
A black jacket from ‘87—the Bad era—
And instructions to "Baila como Michael Jackson"—
And after they pull the velvet curtains open,
I spin out onto the planks and moon walk for the win—
Because—and this is the God's honest truth—
I'd rather be "Michael Jackson" at the night show
Than the King of Pop at age fifty—
Stiff with rigor mortis at Holmby Hills—
Dead in all that crusty makeup—
White—err, Black—err, pale—I guess—
And rich—err, eccentric—or whatever they call it

Submitted: Monday, July 07, 2014

Topic of this poem: death

Form:


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