The duty to do the right thing
To write the right kind of poetry
To tell the greatest short-story ever known to man, a story never before told
And to quite possibly sell, sell, sell!
Why? you might ask
Because I goddamn can, I guess
A most viciously correct vocabulary coursing through me
On an unquenchable quest to impress the masses out there
To manhandle your most miserable day and transform it, direct it away from despair
Towards something of a God-given prayer
A word-slayer of sorts, or so they say
Really, I ought to be singing it from the rooftop
For each and every day that you have given to me
From here on in
Surely no less than a win-win right there
Please do me this one favour, open up and feel free to tell me your every sin
Ladies and gentlemen, I happily afford to you our West Coast Poetry-King