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    The Roof is On Fire

    Microphone check

    Mic check one two one two

    Up there on the rim of the stadium

    Can you hear me in row 522?

     

    Oh, I must be dreaming

    Everyone knows that poetry is just for the coffeehouse

    Small

    A hobby

    In the building of life it’s just the lobby

     

    Everyone knows that poetry is just for the coffeehouse

    Bongos and an expresso machine

    Express yourself, go ahead

    Be romantic, political, sexy, or mean

     

    Poetry is written to be read to other poets

    And maybe a friend or two

    So just give it your best

    Get it off your chest

     

    But five years from now no one will remember

    Who you are or what you do

    Don’t you know that poetry is small

    And that it shrinks further over time?

    Just be happy that you finally figured out

    How to use words and maybe make a few lines rhyme

     

    Now wait a minute!

     

    Why should poetry exist tucked away in a box?

     

    Poets should go platinum

    Have fan clubs and such

    Poets should be people

    That everyone wants to touch

     

    We should live inside the major,

    Not the minor chord

    Don’t settle for a podcast

    Be about a broadcast

    Not just Def Poetry Jam

    But Oprah

    Montel

    Letterman and Leno too

    The Super Bowl halftime show

    Should feature poets just like you

     

    Can’t you imagine yourself rockin’ the mic

    At a jazz festival?

    An arena?

    A stadium?

    But if you wanna blow up

    You can’t just show up

    You’ve got to think it through

     

    Will chapbooks lead to scrapbooks?

    How about a website?

    Facebook?

    A CD?

    Do you need an agent?
    A college hookup?

    Do you need a manager?

    A publicist or two?

    Do you need a gang of friends

    To cheer you on at every gig you do?

    That stuff’s all good

    But put it in the rearview

     

    In the end its not about how you mack it

    It’s about what’s in your head and in your heart and how you stack it

     

    Do you have big ideas?

    Big ideas about personal transformation?

    Or changing the world so that it suits every nation?

     

    We need big ideas to get big audiences

    Ideas about extreme makeovers

    And hostile takeovers

     

    Everyone wishes their life was different

    The life of their hearts

    Their life in the streets

    Give us those visions

    And millions will listen to you

     

    Small ideas are like water

    Damp and moldy, they drip with rust

    We don’t need no water

    The roof is on fire

    Let the motherfucker burn!

    Let it burn!

     

    Like when Erick Sermon said

    “I was blazin’ to specify it”

    Meaning

    We don’t need no water

    The roof is on fire

    Let the motherfucker burn!

    Let it burn!

     

    Reach out and hold the sun

    It was put in the sky to shine on you

     

    Microphone check

    Mic check one two one two

    Up there on the rim of the stadium

    Can you hear me in row 522?

     

     

    Poem / 2008

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