March 21st, 2004

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On Today's Menu: Clay Aiken

A Poem for Clay Aiken:
Oh Clay, you are skinny,
and I am not.
Oh Clay, you can sing,
and I cannot.
Oh Clay, I wish
your songs were not so awful.
Oh Clay,I wish you and I
could get together
and eat waffles.

Yes, he looks like an escapee from the Keebler Cookie Tree. That's okay. I want to hang him on my wall, like a painting. I want him to come to my apartment so I can feed him. He could sing to me while I cook.

Why do I like him? I like him for that Rolling Stone article where he spoke about everything he's allergic to, and about how he can do all kinds of things with his toes. Also, he too sings in his sleep (as reported by Joshua Gracin, one of his fellow American Idol contestants). I imagine if Clay and I were to end up together we could perform musicals while we slept. We could do scenes from Oklahoma and charge admission for people to gather around our bed. We'd be like John and Yoko, only with a cover charge and minus a sociopolitical message. It could happen.

I'm not a big fan of Clay's songs, though I will admitt to turning them up loud when I catch them on the radio, so that he and I can bond. Like most pop songs his butcher the English language. This fact is normally not a problem for me. I can admit to owning more than one Nsync CD. I'll also admit to at one time having been so obsessed with Nsync that I had to track down the German import of their first album so I could get the five songs not featured on the American release. I don't care when they sing songs that use double negatives and cheap rhymes. I simply expect more from Clay.

Clay has not yet made the list of future celebrity ex-husbands. Perhaps one day. I think I am inspired to write another poem for him:

Another Poem for Clay Aiken
Skinny man
Skinny man
Sing to me.
Skinny man
Skinny man
Eat something, I beg you.
Skinny man
Skinny man
I'm going to keep you in my closet
and take you out to show company.


You know, if I were Clay, I think I'd be a little frightened right now.

Oh Clay, one of these days...