When I first entered the realm of spoken word and poetry slam, I had a run in the Bay Area as a "Weird Al" of the scene by writing parodies of works by local poets. I believe Yankovic is a genius and he is certainly the nicest notable person I've ever met. I thoroughly enjoy his work.

However, my favorite of my own parodies is my take on Shane Koyczan's "Beethoven" (tip-o-the-hat to Ms. Spelt.) My version is called "Boyardee" and I feel as though it is the most dead-on parody I've ever written. I love parodies, and I find that they tend to get my creative electricities all charged up. They're also good practice for trying to understand what and why a poet/writer does what they do with words.

I'd love it if poets would submit one spoken word poem to me for parody. Submit your original work, by MP3 AND text. My parodies are much better when I can hear the tone the poet uses with each line.

Send them to ilikemike at my Gmail address. Post a comment here to say you've sent something so I can keep a record of who is interested in this.

I will write the parodies and make every attempt to record them and post them here on my LiveJournal.

Below you will find a poem of mine to parody as you wish. If you can record it, I'd love to share the text and audio here.

You will also find the texts of the Koyczan and Mojgani parodies I've written.

Let the mockery begin!
–––––––––
Word to the nerd.



–––––––––



SOUL FOOD: A DUEL WITH DEATH AT LUNCHTIME
© 2001 Mike McGee

So last week the Angel of Death comes knocking at my door
Totally interrupting Perfect Strangers
And I’m like, “Dude, you are so early! There is so much more I wanted to do with my life!”

“You’ve had plenty of time for that!”

“You know, you sound a bit like Sean Connery.”

“No, he sounds a bit like me.”

"Whatever, dude. There’s gotta be some sort of loop-hole. What if we competed for my soul? Like some sort of contest."

“I love a good challenge. If we can both agree on one, then the winner may keep your soul.”

At this point I remembered I had a pot a ramen noodles waiting for me on the stove. The Angel of Death was lured into my kitchen by the sweet aromatic joy of powdered shrimp flavoring. I could see that Death was hungry, so I made a second pack of Ramen. We sat and ate in silence, but my hunger just wouldn’t subside. So while I raided the fridge, I noticed Death scoping my Rice Krispy Treats.

“Still hungry, dude?”

“We’ll take one for the road.” he said.

And we both put a Rice Krispy treat in our pockets.

“Actually, I could probably eat half of all your food.”

“So could I, dude, so could I.”

And it hit us both at the same time. We pulled out every bit of food in my house and divided it all into equal halves. We had one rule: First person to finish eating their half of food keeps my soul.

We sat down on the kitchen floor surrounded by an odd buffet. The world’s greatest food challenge began. But this was no ordinary match.

I took an early lead as Death fumbled opening a can of refried beans. I plowed through a dozen eggs and half a gallon of milk. I strategically swallowed spoonful after spoonful of leftover lasagna, without chewing. Death caught up to me with a tub of butter and half a soggy pumpkin pie. I hustled my way through cans of corn, green beans, kidney beans, chili, chicken soup, fruit cocktail, and a few cans of peas, but I was stopped dead in my tracks by a mystery can. It’s label missing and nowhere to be found. Damn, dog food! No time to think, I had to eat it.

Death was now ahead of me by two-cans of beer, a frozen steak and what we think may have been tamales. I burped to make room and continued on in the feast for my soul. I ate broccoli, cauliflower, cucumbers, oranges, bananas, a container of baking powder, two cups of salt & pepper, a jug of Pepto-Bismol and a can of whipped cream. We reached our last item of food. One. Raw. Potato. Each. We slowly gnawed our way through the raw potatoes, swallowing our last bites at the exact same time. It appeared as though we had a draw. Then Death looked to me with a sly grin and handed me a Tupperware bowl with my half of uneaten Jello. I grabbed a straw and sucked it down, saying:

“There’s always room for Jello, bitch!”

But Death just smiled and said, “I believe I finished my half before you. Your soul is mine.”

But I just outsmiled him and said, “What’s that in your pocket, hooker?”

His face sunk as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the last Rice Krispy Treat.

He looked to me with fear as I handed him my wrapper, and swallowed a mouthful of crispy, marshmallow goodness. “I believe I win, fucker.”

With that, the Angel of Death bowed and vanished.

I sat down to an episode of Full House and ordered a pizza...
cuz there’s never anything to eat at my house.



–––––––––



BOYARDEE
(to Shane Koyczan’s ”Beethoven”)
© 2001 Mike McGee

Taste it
His father made a habit out of frying them
See
Some men bake
Some men broil
Some men sautee their food
This man did it all
because I guess all men want their boys to be chefs

Boyardee

Little boy living in a house where the size of your hat meant nothing
Living in a house where groceries had to be earned
through each tasty morsel
served from the kitchen to tantalize the teeth of angels
whose hunger couldn’t be filled by anyone
other than this young boy
who had destroyed his tastebuds

Boyardee

Who tasted his fathers cooking every time he put tongue to taco
It was
not HOT enough
so he cooked hotter
not SOON enough
so he cooked faster
Not CULTURED enough
so he brought in a Hibachi

Not GOOD enough
and when he could taste no more
when his throat swelled up from the odd concoction of spices
it was
NOT GOOD ENOUGH

Boyardee

A culinary master
without his most precious tool
His tongue could no longer taste the meals he made in his mind
He couldn’t hear the people eating
He couldn’t hear them pigging out
He couldn’t hear the waiters tell the women in the restaurant that the chefs name was
Boyardee
As they let the mouthfuls invade their stomachs
like a snail sliding through
slinging meatballs
paralyzing every nerve in their bodies
like explosions of mustard gas
Each bite leaving drip marks over every inch of their chest
Making them hungry for one more
HELPING

He was an addiction
and kings/queens
it didn’t matter
The man got down on his knees for lasagna
but people amputated their legs
just to be closer to the food he dropped on the
FLOOR

The man got down on his knees for MATZO

And when the culinary academy made his recipes
it was the bile of his fathers tacos
bur-burping-burp-burping itself up into his throat

It was
not HOT enough
so he cooked hotter
not SOON enough
so he cooked faster
not CULTURED enough
so he brought in a frenchman

NOT GOOD ENOUGH
so they tried to mock the chef
make fun of his meals
by mimicking his movements
holding their ladels
a quarter of an inch above the pot
not stirring the soup
It was
burning

See
The chefs have this intimacy with food
it’s there in their dreams
and the culinary students turned to one another
not knowing what to do about the soup
trying to calculate the distance between
them and the firehose
Realizing that Boyarees ingredient measurements
could take you to dining rooms far past
the tables of Burger King
Turning golden arches into symbols, crashing togethercausing people to cry
creating a mob so large
they shook the restaurant until the lights began to fall fromt he ceiling
and it looked like the entire world had come to eat

TV dinners must be an illusion
The man must be a genius

Boyardee

His knife chopping at the speed of a food processor
Transforming beef into meatloaf

(My bologna has a first name, it’s O-S-C-A-R)

And after 45 minutes at 375 degrees
it was like canned food was a marketable thing
Like you could sell it
like for the first time
we could eat ravioli and tortellini
off the same plate of such fine china
that we finally understood
the packaging wasn’t important
to know the man and his food
all we ever had to do was
Taste it



–––––––––



BUST THE DUST
© 2007 Mike McGee
(to Anis Mojgani's "Shake The Dust")

this is for the flatulent girls
this is for the little bubblers
this is for the schoolyard whiffs and for the childhood booties that
tormented them
for the formidable prom queef and for the intolerant milk drinkers
for the nighttime dutch oveners
and for the retired elderly "I farted in the elevator" door greeters
fart the dust

this is for the benches and the people sharting upon them
for the bus drivers inhaling a million broken winds
for the men who have to hold in three pops simply to hold onto their women
for the night pooers
and for the midnight butt lighters trying to flame
fart the dust

for the two year olds who cannot be understood
because they fart half liquid
and half not
fart the dust
for the boys with the booty–full sisters
fart the dust
for the girls with the brothers who are blowing lazy
for those gym class rope climbers
for the 12 year olds afraid of making public sours
for the kid who’s always late to class cuz he forgets beans loosen his pucker
for the girl who loves somebody else's brand
fart the dust
this
is for the bloated men who want to fart but know that it won’t come
for the ones who aren't fartin'
the ones you have to stand up for
for the ones who are told to squeak only when you are solo and then
are never solo
squeak every time you stand
so you do not shart yourself
do not let a moment go by that doesn’t remind you that your butt
farts 900 times a day
and that there is enough gas to make you a truck stop
do not settle for letting these fumes settle and for the dust to collect
in your jeans

this is for the silent-vowed monk who keeps on struggling
for the potty trainers and for the people who go on vacations to fart

for the sweat that collects between mick jagger’s stinging cheeks
and for the flapping skirt on tina turner’s flapping apple
for the heavens and for the hells through which tina has put her husband

this is for the dry ones and for the creamers

for the families that will never be true believers
in perfectly silent keesters
with butts not smelly with fever
this is for the spigots
for the flexists
and for the spillers
for the big, loud fart contestants becoming winners
and for the cloud trail
that always seems to show up right after the sprinters

this is for you

make sure that by the time the smell returns
you are gone again
cuz thanks to indigestion
i burn at both ends
and every time i eat
every time i open my mouth
i am creating a fart from myself to give to you
so
fart the dust
and shake my hand when you do
for none of this has ever been for me
all that hushes and lulls
hushes for you
so grab this world by its buttcheeks
and fart it out again
and again
and hop on top
and take it for a spin
and when you stop to cough
fart it again
for this is yours

make my gas worth it

make this not just another wind that i push out

not
just another wind like
just another fart that sits heavy in my bowels
walk into it
breath
it in!
let it creep through the hallways of your colon
like the millions of years of millions of farts
coursing like poop
pumping and pushing
making you cringe
farting the dust
so when a fart knocks at your butt
clutch your pants tightly
and pull them on down
running forward into the world's unsuspecting faces
with your ass before you
buttcheeks
trembling
though they may be

Internet in Nashville=Zilch.
Internet in Groton, Connecticut=Plentiful and Free!
–––––––––
You can subscribe to my podcast via iTunes, Yahoo! and Google. Just search for Mike McGee's Podcast.

Mike McGee's Podcast: Episode 9
Third Week of February
Episode 9 Show Notes (RT-30:00)

Opening Show Theme: Bryce Dumont's "Raincoat" (http://www.myspace.com/brycedumontetal)

Track 1: Alex Charalambides' "New Car" (http://www.cdbaby/cd/charalambides)

Music Bed: Anis Mojgani's "Diamond Sponge" (http://www.myspace.com/mojgani)

Track 2: Joshua Walters' "Detach the Scrotum" (http://www.myspace.com/thejoshuawalters)

Slam Idol Promo (http://slamidol.tripod.com)

Track 3: Rah Rah's "Cuba vs. Peru" (http://www.myspace.com/rahrah)

Everyday Muse Promo (http://www.prosodyetc.com)

Closing Show Theme by Jimmy Newell (http://www.myspace.com/thejimmy)

All tracks, songs, poems and music used with express permission from original artist/composer.

OTHER LINKS: Derrick C. Brown-(http://www.brownpoetry.com)
Robbie Q-(http://www.robbieq.com)
Mudu Multimedia-(http://www.mudumultimedia.com)
All Black Cinema-(http://www.myspace.com/AllBlackCinema)

Come see Mike, along with Buddy Wakefield, Derrick Brown, Dan Leamen, and Anis Mojgani
in their national tour-----> Solomon's Sparrow's Electric Whale Revival: (http://www.myspace.com/whalerevival)

Shownotes and Information: http://www.mikemcgee.net/podcast or http://mikemcgee.libsyn.com

Mike McGee is a member of the Association of Poetry Podcasting at http://www.poetrypodcasting.org This podcast is produced on an Apple MacBook by Mike McGee, and is hosted at http://www.libsyn.com

Contact Mike at mightymikemcgee at gmail about submitting independent poetry and music.

Copyright 2007 MikeMcGee.net
–––––––––
Word to the nerd.
2007: Go for it!

Congrats to Ed Mabrey, the 2007 IWPS champion!

Columbus, Ohio is very proud of you, sir--and so am I!
I know it was not an easy bout last night. It couldn't have been with all of those awesome slam skills on stage. I wish I could've seen it, and seen you win, sir. I think any of the top five would make great champions.

I met Ed backstage at NPS Indie Finals, Chicago, 2003. I knew after hearing his voice that he was great. I'm glad he proved it. That's my friend right there!

If you are not familiar with Ed, click here for his Myspace audio page.

I'm especially proud of my boy, Dan Leaman as well. He's always been 5th place in my heart...

Looking at the final round, and I'd say it was a downright incredible and challenging slam. Please post comments on your experiences at IWPS.

2nd Place -- Anis Mojgani
3rd Place -- Andrea Gibson
4th Place -- Jamie DeWolf
5th Place -- Dan Leaman

Way to go Jamie, Anis and Andrea. You are damn fine poets and my friends. That is wonderful.

This is the only information I have, I do not know how the other finalists placed last night. If you have this information, please comment with it.
---------
When most people type the acronym IWPS for the Individual World Poetry Slam, why is the letter i used in a lowercase? That annoys the crap out of me. I want an explanation that makes sense. iWPS does not look right to me, and I believe that it is incorrect. Anyone?
---------
Word to the nerd.

Been in Chicago for a bit. Been entertaining the notion of staying even longer. It's a damn fine city. I must give it up to Alvin Lau. The man is one of the best hosts a touring poet could ask for. Lovely place. Great neighborhood. Thank you, my new friend. I appreciate the time we had to hang out. Being a touring poet himself, he understands the needs of bearded chubbies.
–––––––––
I have a lot coming up. A potential tour with Robbie Q. And another with Anis Mojgani and Shane Koyczan.

You can find more of my future gigs at my Myspace profile: myspace.com/mikemcgee

In November, I return to L.A. for a great series of shows with In-Q, Dez Hope, Joe Hernandez-Kolski, and DJ Jedi.


"When Two Worlds Collide: an evening of poetry and music"

Highways Performance Space
1651 18th Street (1/2 block North of Olympic)
Santa Monica, CA 90404

November 16 – 18 at 8:30pm

COST: Thursday, November 16th – PAY WHAT YOU CAN
Friday, November 17th — $20 general + $15 student/group
Saturday, November 18th — $20 general + $15 student/group
(A limited number of $10 tix available at www.goldstarevents.com)

HOW: Purchase tickets online at www.highwaysperformance.org or call (310) 315-1459

When Two Worlds Collide is an evening of what can be considered the next generation of poetry and music. Drawing from a wealth of backgrounds, the artists performing at Highways Performance Space, November 16 – 18, are some of the best at their craft. Emmy award-winning producer and two-time HBO Def Poet, Joe Hernandez-Kolski, was approached by Leo Garcia, Artistic Director of Highways Performance Space, to put together an evening of work. So Joe got excited and surrounded himself with some of the most talented performers from the west coast. “These are the artists who inspire me,” says Joe. 2006 Individual World Poetry Slam Champion Mike McGee arrives from San Jose; In-Q, a numerous slam champion and one of the most prolific Hip-Hop MCs, arrives from Santa Monica; Dez Hope, the “Mexican Bob Dylan with beats” brings his guitar and looping machine from Boyle Heights; DJ Jedi carries his turntables and mixer and vast music catalog from Culver City; and Joe Hernandez-Kolski makes his way from Chicago (via Mar Vista, baby!) to bring you an evening of poetry and music guaranteed to provoke laughter and thought.
–––––––––
Word to the nerd.

I was in San Luis Obispo a couple of nights ago with Rachel McKibbens, Sonya Renee, Sekou the Misfit, Steve Connell and Anis Mojgani. I hosted a "for fun slam" in front of a thousand incoming Cal Ploy freshmen, while all the poets above slammed for bragging rights. We did two slams – Anis won the first, Sonya won the second. Man, it was good time. Fuckin' shite it was a damn blast. All good peeps. The students were exciting and were totally turned onto spoken word. Admittedly, one would have to concur that we had a pretty good crew of poets converting them into fans.

Later, I interviewed Sonya for my podcast, in my hotel room. That's what they call it now..."interviewing for my podcast." Hmmm.

Actually, when I found out who she's dating, I was stoked. The dude's a good guy, and I can't think of anyone in the poetry slam community that might have a bad word to say about him. It ain't my place to say who's who, but we read each other's blogs...
–––––––––
My podcast Episode #4 is up and it's awesome. I interviewed my favorite poet, RC Weslowski while in Vancouver last week. He's so S-wheat.

I am now in the midst Los Angeles and it's surrounding chaos. I like it a bit more every time I come down here. At one point, the people I really knew down here were Ratpack Slim and Feff, who had relocated from San José. Now my old roomie Dante lives here, along with old SJ slam teammate Erik Sanchez, yet both had grown up here and moved to San Jo.

Monday, September 25: I will be performing at Green! I dig this spot, so much that I hold the record for the most performances of any visiting poet. More info here-----> GreenEveryMonday.com

Tuesday, September 26: I have been asked to come and do a set at the Da Poetry Lounge. I had a blast the last time I was there, so I couldn't say no.  More info here-----> DaPoetryLounge.com

Sunday, October 7: I am one of the features at the Soul Cypher. This event is run by NerCity and Scorpio Blues, former Oakland Slam Team members, and now the husband and wife poetry family duo of supreme awesomicity. They are really doing an incredible job of bringing quality spoken word back to Oakland. We're talking black tie affairs and superb downtown style events. Come check them out! They are the Swheatest! More info here-----> Soul Cypher's MySpace Page

If you're in the L.A. region, please come see me at one of these spots next week! Email me or comment to say you might make it out. These shows would like to have you there. mightymikemcgee gmail com
–––––––––
Hella word to the nerd.