Hey gang, it's a special micro sound of Young America.

You know, we've always been about things that are awesome, but to this point,

I don't think we've ever had any poetry on the show.

Notice that I said to this point, here's poet Michael Robbins,

reading his poem, Alien vs Predator.

Praise this world, Rilka says, the jerk.

We'd stay up all night. Every angel's berserk.

Hell, if you slit monkeys for a living, you'd pray to me too.

I'm not so forgiving, I'm rubber, your glue.

That elk is such a dick. He's a space tree, making a ski, and a little foam chiropractor.

I set the controls, I pioneer the seeding of the ionosphere.

I translate the Bible into Velociraptor.

In front of Best Buy, the Tibetans are released, but where's the whale on stilts that we were promised?

I fight the comets, lick the moon, pave its lonely streets.

The Sand Hill cranes make brains look easy.

I go by many names, Buju Banton, Camel Light, the New York Times.

Point being Rick Shah's in Scranton.

I have few legs. I sleep on meat. I'd eat your bra point being in a heartbeat.

Michael Robbins, reading Alien vs Predator, it was originally published in The New Yorker.