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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