In a Rare Right Wing Mood


I want to hear the sparkling sound

Of English speech going round


The sharp and caustic consonants

The logic cutting Continents


Or will I hear the vulgar sounds

From ugly, swarthy, southern grounds


The slurping, gurgling gross illogic

The third world, dull and idiotic


Their meager, tiny ideation

Their gaudy, garish conversation


Their robes, their veils, that turbaned head

Oh give me Saville Row instead


Damn your maddening, malarial politics

I need quinine, gin and tonics


No spicy, ulcerating Vindaloo

Make it a steak, potatoes and brew


No witchcraft, voodoo or sophistry

Just modern science and industry


Take your herbs and acupuncture

Or soon I’ll need a lumbar puncture


No febrile Farrakhan or Khomeini

Over Churchill and Disraeli


Their drums of rhythmic stupification

Fail before melodic variation


No filthy, sweltering, disease-rich swamps

Just verdant meadows for summer romps


Brains and beauty they always eschew

They always want to kill the Jew


The West so beautiful and G-d aligned

Should never defer to that kind


Quash the masochistic tendency

To welcome the enemy’s ascendancy


Oh give me Shakespeare, give me Cromwell

Be off, you multi-cultural spell


Copyright, David Gottfried, 1995


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