It’s time to run the Redskins out of town,
The Braves as well—and Indians and Chiefs,
The tomahawk chop, Chief Wahoo (Cleveland’s clown),
And similar insensitive motifs.
The Vatican objects, not once, but twice:
To bounty-hunting “Saints,” for raising hell;
To Devils, who do not belong on ice,
Where they’ve been posted by the NHL.
Belligerent, the Russians now demand
A name change for the Reds they find obscene.
Somalis want our Pirates to disband,
And Royals are offensive to the Queen. Eagles, Blue Jays, Orioles, begone!
(You’re being challenged by the Audubon.)
The fireman was fired today.
The barber’s now on severance pay.
Crestfallen are the lumberjacks
Since their employment got the axe.
The cobbler got the boot; what’s more,
The carpenter was shown the door.
And I’ve just learned, with some alarm,
Of lay-offs at the poultry farm.
The sailor got the old heave-ho;
The trapeze artist was let go.
The burlap weaver won’t be back
Now that he too has got the sack.
Redundant is the copyist.
The beauty pageant queen? Dismissed.
Designers of her lingerie
Were given their pink slips today.
Discharged, the local electrician
Currently seeks a new position.
The notary was disinclined
To take a pay cut, so resigned.
The cannery is closing and
The workers there have all been canned.
And given this, I’m not surprised
The dietician’s been downsized.
In English there is no vocation
Sans a term for termination,
So when the recession looms
The only worker, one assumes,
The threat of job loss won’t deter:
The humble lexicographer!
He seeks out BioGenesis
To help him beat Ruth’s Numbers
And Barry’s tainted Mark (boo! hiss!),
While A-Rod’s Wisdom slumbers.
If Judges don’t reject the facts
Of Revelation‘s probe,
It’s Exodus for him, whose Acts
Refute his claim he’s Job.
I found it on my windshield—that’s a fact—
where some well-meaning soul had gently placed it,
inscribed “Beloved in the Lord” and tacked
behind a wiper blade. I hate to waste it.
I’ve always thought Jesus was quite a dude
and just as inspirational as Ghandi
(Mahatma), who taught never to be rude
whether you drive a Chevy or a Hondi.
But now I fear I have been singled out.
What Solomonic gesture netted me
this card, unlike my neighbors all about?
Wait, there’s a flash of light and now I see:
It’s not that Jesus wants me any nearer.
It’s just that Buddha hanging from the mirror.