If I Went To Market

​This is a poem I wrote in 2019. I imagine it to the tune of If I Had A Million Dollars by Bare Naked Ladies.

You know I love you and I’d do anything for you and I’d buy you anything and I’d give you everything I have. In fact, I wrote a song about it and I’ll sing it to you right now.

If I went to market (If you went to market)
I would buy you a fat pig (But not a real fat pig; that’s gross)
And if I came home again (And if you came home again)
I’d go jiggity-jig jiggity-jig (Jiggity-jiggity-jig)
And this little piggy went to market (And this little piggy stayed home)
And this little piggy had roast beef (And this little piggy had none)
And this little piggy cried wee-wee-wee-wee-wee (All the way home)

(I thought this was a song about all the stuff you were going to buy me.)
It was, but I forgot. I’ll do better next verse.

If I was named Jack Horner (You’d be teased in high school)
Then I’d eat a Christmas pie (But not a whole pie at once; that’s gross)
And if I found in it a plum (A fat, juicy plum for me?)
I’d say what a good boy am I (What a meanie!)
I once heard a cat play a fiddle (You said you saw a cow jump over the moon)
I once heard a dog laugh (You said you saw a dish run away with a spoon)
I think I finally understand it all now (You’re insane)

(What was in that Christmas pie anyways? Mushrooms?)
No, I think it was just plums and magic reindeer meat.
(That explains it.)

​If I was named Peter Piper (You’d still be teased in high school)
I’d pick a peck of pickled peppers – for you (You know I’ve always liked pickled peppers!)
And if I was named Peter Piper (Your initials would be pee-pee)
A peck of pickled peppers is what I’d pick (A peck of pickled peppers is what you’d pick – for me)
And if I was an old woman (Then I’d guess you’d live in a shoe)
And if I slept under a haystack (Then I guess you’d be little boy blue)
And if I sang this song to you on our wedding night (You’d be weird)