once upon a midnight dreary
as i shuffled, coffee-bleary
over to a starbucks, which was open until four
while i studied, nearly napping
suddenly there came a snapping
as of someone gently rapping— rapping about cheaper stores
‘tis some kanye,’ i muttered, ‘rapping about this cheap store-
only kanye; nothing more.’

and yet still, his strength unsapping
he is rapping! he is rapping!
over coffeeshop intercoms from new york to jersey shore;
and his beats are so strange-seeming
that i think i must be dreaming
and i know that he is scheming to deliver raps galore.
and i ask him now: “who art thou, shopping thrifty, as if poor?”
quoth the rapper – ‘Macklemore!’

im crying