American Idol

You're the bomb
or the eggshell
Your teeth make me quiver,
those perfect pearls

I want to sign you
with Lysol or bring you home
for turkey
(how embarrassing)

Maybe I will meet you
at the Oscars
We can bring your tiny dog
in that canary yellow

tracksuit

You are like the best hog
at the county fair
I'd put on my Sunday trousers
to meet your dad

even, that kind of special

In Hollywood I take my map
The names of old dead actors
I don't know - Where are you
young breed of lovelies

My life is something
lighter
just seeing you grasp
the microphone and take flight

I can tell you understand me
as only the young
and truly beautiful
ever can