The Immigration Question

If you refuse to let me talk about immigrants, I’ll explode
I’ve spent many days in darkened rooms watching the scenes
of these chitinous figures, crawling out of their boats

Freedom of speech is a sacred right, don’t you see?
What’s not right, what’s not sacred are those with insect skin
Buzzing round lights and digesting all they can steal

But my hatred is stronger for those who want to vote ‘in’
They’ll swarm us, you know, some might even move to my town
Like them from Scotland, but worse, cos they are my kin

It’s like Mr. Hunt said, you’ve got to let us make known
What we think of these things, these invaders destroying our culture
When they attack x-factor, their forces then will have grown

It’ll be too late to protect those ancient sculptures
of the queen, or strictly come dancing, or downton or bake-off
They’ll soon be circling these greats, like flea-bitten vultures

That Nadia, you see, and that Khan, they’ve already made God
Think that our country had better be run by the Muslims
If it gets much worse I’m probably just gonna take off

To go to the USA finally joining my cousins
I’ll flee from here quickly to somewhere where they understand
That Trump has it right, he wants to deport by the dozen

They come and take our jobs, we’re standing in quicksand
Then pay no tax cos their wages are far too low
This is why we need Boris or Nigel to grandstand

Besides, this is a christian country, you know
And it’s easier for a camel to pass through an eye of a needle
than for an eastern european to try and follow

His family across the icy british channel
That’s what Jesus said, and never to share
Our country here is locked in a violent struggle

And though, we know, God said from up in the air
Thou shalt not kill, we think we might make an exception
And allow them to drown. We’d really rather they stayed there

America, yes, the land of the free, with traditions
Of stamping the poor down, can help us with our problem,
Of stamping down the immigrants on their expedition

Perhaps we could even launch a joint pogrom
And kill them all, lion and eagle together
They aren’t British, so as far as I care we can sod em

There, don’t you feel better, now you’ve let me blather?
My racist opinions, thrown up all over your ears?
What a tradition, and praise to the heavenly father

Published by

capuchin

Send your life out in multiple directions like a galaxy shedding stars. Always come back to hope and try to thrive. All posts, (poems, stories, essays, etc.) here are composed by my hand, unless noted otherwise. Please ask if you'd like to use one.

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