Flat Clay : An I-Can-Read Book

My grandma is a Claymate.
She watches “clack” all day.
If I bug her while she’s watching it
She pushes me away.

One day as I played paper dolls
Gram said, “Holy shit!
If I make a doll that looks like Clay
Then I can play with it!”

So she got a big old poster board
And sketched and cut all day.
And when it was completed
She named the doll “Flat Clay.”

She’d pick up her big paper doll
And make him dance and prance!
Then they’d travel to Clay’s concerts
In Grandma’s clambulance.

(Flat Clay couldn’t sit inside.
Why? No bendable butt.
So Gram chained him to the roof
Like Mitt Romney’s mutt.)

Flat C went with Grandma
To each of Clay’s productions.
When other mats begged for a doll of their own
Gram gave them the instructions.

Soon there were Flat Clays at every concert
What an amazing feat!
Finally the mats could say in truth
That Clay filled every seat.

And there are definite advantages
To owning a “Clay” that’s flat.
His lack of voice prevents demands
They buy eight of this and that.

…And forget about those scandals
Which had always been so damning.
Flat Clay has no Waldo.
Thus no chance of him webcamming.

When the concerts were all over
Gram put her doll away.
She keeps him in the closet.
(See, he is like Clay.)