Best Spicks Poems
It’s time, by now, we did away with nations.
I tell you, hand on heart beneath the flag,
This jingo jag has now become a drag.
Those puerile patriotic palpitations
had meaning only when we lived in tribes.
Today our people mix and mingle freely –
so can’t we now dispense with Horace Greeley,
and wetbacks, wops and wogs, and all those jibes?
Since nations never have a sense of humour,
it’s little wonder why we have these wars.
We need a change of heart. Embrace the cause:
don’t split us into gooks or spooks or squaws,
or hicks or micks or spicks, or baby-boomers.
One nation under God, we’re all consumers.
The crocodile smile is such a pretty sight
as the Egyptian Plover keeps his teeth
pearly white and shiny bright
"Open wide," are words heard from the bird
his dental hygienist who picks and pecks
then eats the meaty spicks and specks
and as the crocodile sheds old choppers
(no tears)
so the avian's not unemployed or at a loss
the croc constantly grows new gnashers
for his new-found feathered friend to floss