A Little-Known Truth about Financial Success

when i get the money, i’m gonna pitch the first ball in the world series, and
i’m gonna buy the stanley cup, and i’m gonna sit so close to andre agassi at
wimbledon that i’ll be able to stab him over and over again in-between sets
(and i’ll get away with it), and i’m gonna make jabba the hutt a quarterback,
and i’m gonna be the towel boy for the laker girls, and i’m gonna force pro
wrestlers to wrestle, and i’m gonna parachute off of manhattan skyscrapers,
because i want to impress the simple of mind.
when i get the money, churches, lakes, museums, malls, shoes, power tools,
crayon colors, and chinese people will all be named after me.

when i get the money, i’ll have pudding pops in madagascar with uma thurman
and spock, and me and tarantino are gonna buy the bones of bruce lee and put
them in a movie called, “the bones of bruce lee are alive!,” and i’m gonna
burn doogie howser’s stupid diary, and i’m gonna have punky brewster in a
nightgown reading me bedtime stories, and i’m gonna buy expensive crystal,
because it’s expensive.

when i get the money, i’m gonna be the model american, and white suprema-
cists will admit their inferiority to me in mandarin chinese, and barney will be
maimed, and michael bolton will be assassinated, and everyone will be denied
uttering the words “alanis morrisette” in a public place, and bands like the
rolling stones, led zeppelin, and the eagles, whom i formerly thought were all
dead, will just be put into retirement.

when i get the money, i’m gonna have a microchip in my head, so that i can
say, “i have a microchip in my head,” and i’m gonna make alyssa milano a star
again, and i’m gonna teach children how to fly, and punk rock girls all over the
world will have their sid & nancy shirts say, “sid & beau,” and the cast of
friends will be exiled to b-movie hell, and my face will be on every condom’s
receptacle tip, and mel torme is gonna rap “ice ice baby” to me while i shower,
and i’m gonna kill the offspring, before there are any more of them.

when i get the money, i’m gonna have a tibetan monastery in my backyard,
and i’m gonna make every muslim learn breakdancing, and i’m gonna set fire
to the protestants, and i’m gonna make priests wear l.a. gear, and i’m gonna
give rabbis cadillacs with big, furry interiors, and i’m gonna give wiccans a
broom and a pointy hat and put them in my screen production of cats, only it
will be called witches, and i’m gonna go to jerusalem and build mini-malls
that only sell nativity scenes, and i’m gonna make mormons work comedy
clubs while on missions for god, and i’m gonna start a grape kool-aid drinking
religion where everyone knows what might happen, but drink up anyway and
end up happy they didn’t die from cyanide poisoning. ~

when i get the money, i’m gonna publish 382 pg. books with nothing but my
name on the cover, and people will buy them, and i’m gonna have benefit
concerts where i sing everyone else’s songs really badly, and i’m gonna eat
barbecued smurf everyday, and i’m gonna reveal to the world that mr. rogers
is really delta burke in disguise, and i’m gonna get an incurable cancer and
cure it by applying a salve made out of the breast tissue of gloria estefan.

when i get the money, i’m gonna buy all of the baby kittens in the world,
eagerly awaiting the second coming of alf.

when i get the money, i’m gonna roam the galaxy in a star destroyer piloted by
bill cosby and danny zucco, in search of movie roles for michael j. fox.

when i get the money, the actors from the breakfast club are going to come
over and watch the movie with me and they’ll have to listen to me say repeat-
edly, “wow! i really thought your careers would take off after that!”

when i get the money, i’m gonna throw my weight around,
when i get the money, i’m gonna use people,
when i get the money, i’m gonna own mtv,

and sure, money can’t buy you love,
but love
can’t
buy you
shit.

:: Beau Sia, in Poetry Nation [anthology]