The consensus man, under a government plan,
Set out to count every fellow-
And every woman and every child, across every mile,
In his suit stitched in yellow.
After a hearty feast, he started in the east,
and knocked on every door.
In his journal he’d note, with every pen he’d tote,
Of every head he’d count, no more.
He left New England, while he was singing,
to the south along the Appalachian States.
To the tip of Florida, that was his border,
No more, no less, no mistakes.
Onto the Midwest, he counted the rest,
and continued onto the south.
Every single sibling, assuring no one was missing,
of every person that had a mouth.
He crossed the Rockies, with an extra set of stockings,
the man in the yellow suit.
Then onto the coast, by bicycle or boat,
of anyone that could whistle or toot.
Next onto Alaska, and onto Hawaii,
across our two distant states.
Every girl, every woman, every boy, every man
Assuring there were no mistakes.
The consensus man, finished his plan,
then laid his journal across the shelf.
And in his bed, one thought through his head,
He forgot to count himself.