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What to Do About the Jew?

18k1kkqksjlh7jpg1,215 words

What to do about the Jew?
He’s one in fifty, they say.
Yet eight out of ten
of the President’s men
Go to a temple to pray.

I like to read credits, who directs, writes, and edits
Our movies and television shows. 
And of banks by the dozens
The Jews and their cousins
Are the generalissimos.

A board of directors, conscientious objectors,
Executives, artists, tycoons,
Writers and thinkers
And sleazers and slinkers
And masters of contrabassoons,

There are Jews by the reams in my nightmares and dreams.
They kibitz me and cavil me and cajole:
“Why dare to kvetch
When your world is a wretch
Without Judaistic control?”

So at Truth’s behest I made it my quest
To rid the world of this stumper.
Is the Jew just as crooked
As he doth looked?
Or is he a marvelous trumper?

I went to the baker to meet my maker
Of alexander-torté
To ask if the Jew
Also controls you.
He said, “I’m not allowed to say.

“I have more debt than I’d like to bet
That my shop of cakes and cookies
Would be made less frantic
By an anti-Semantic
Who thought he knew more than the bookies.”

I decided to visit and hoped to solicit
Divine wisdom from a man of the cloth.
“The question of Jewish
Is plainly not true-ish!”
He thundered quite piously wroth.

“On gentile and Jew, like me and like you,
I demand that we hear no more flatus.
God promised us equal
In Old Testament’s sequel
But not so our tax-exempt status!”

Green dot and blue tweet, my friends I did meet
To tackle this problem so tragic.
But it seems the step-mum
Of my dearest school chum
Is a Jew by way of Halachic.

He frowned and he squinted. He barely nigh-hinted
That I’d better atone and self-flog
Or on Facebook he’d oust me,
On Twitter he’d joust me,
And smear me all over his blog.

For more testimony I called on a crony
Who seemed to be much more auspicious.
You couldn’t get goyer
Than a Swedish blonde lawyer
Who’s named after Saint Aloysius.

He grimaced and coughed. His drink it was quaffed.
He whispered he staunchly concurred.
“But I cannot cut losses
With Hebraic bosses
Perhaps who have just overheard!”

A gal of psychology and philo-semology
Declared to a crowd what’s askew:
“That wish that you wish again
Like that lake near Lake Michigan
Is why everybody hates you.”

She said to the letter that no jot I was better
Than the mob which envelopes the orb.
That’s why they’ve been searchin’
For each brown-black urchin
To force my great land to absorb.

I nearly recanted with eyes all a-slanted
And aiming their murder at me.
In a room full of students
I abandoned my prudence
And served up the brewess her tea:

“Perhaps it’s the Jew, and not me and not you
Who has something secret to gain.
In the dun rainbow throng
Among violence and wrong
They vanish mid-legerdemain.

“They try to mend fences and racial diff’rences
With lies about genes and IQ.
They take up the fight
Of brown against white
As history has taught them to do.

“Not that I blame them. I don’t want to shame them.
I’d like to discern what is true.
They ruin and rend
As they superintend
The replacement of Old with the New.

“Now there is reason why this is malfeasin’.
Our ancient traditions do serve us.
As history unravels
Our Transcendent travels,
It tempts the Devil to swerve us.

“We shouldn’t gainsay evolution per se
Which pains to revere what’s before it.
But the Jew shows contempt
From which he’s exempt.
He makes us not love but abhor it.

“None in particular this extracurricular
Effort intends to malign.
The sins of the few
Shouldn’t slander the Jew
Who respects what is yours and what’s mine.

“But I can’t help but notice from POTUS to POTUS
Jews played a big role when we chose them.
Mid all false and trueities
And gross promiscuities
So few of their own kind oppose them.

“Not to sound rude but I’m forced to conclude
A fact – it is too large to miss it.
Despite oaths of loyalty
And parvenu royalty
Jews can be somewhat duplicit.”

A hammer of silence fell with great violence
As the shock was absorbed in the hall.
My life was to spiral
As this became viral
Portending my crashing downfall.

I swiftly absconded from the swiftly beau-monded
Rabble who enlightened their brain
By hurling invective
And hardly respective
Intentions to emulate Cain.

My wife she did left me, my children bereft me
I became a persona non-person.
And then my employer
Retained an ace lawyer
And person began to much-worsen.

They called me a hater, a race instigator.
A public nonprofit dot-org
Placed me in the lists
Of leading racists
And dumped my career in the morgue.

I tried to appeal with desperate zeal
And the kindest intentions in mind:
“I am no extremist
But a high-self-esteemist
Who believes in his race and his kind.

“My ancestors drew sights at old Harlem Heights
And defeated the British unheeding.
We showed derring-do
At Tippecanoe.
In Kansas we bled with the bleeding.

“We served with MacArthur. We took it much farther
In ‘Nam in sixty-nine.
How can you deny me
And decertify me
When this land is so palpably mine?”

They refused to attend and mass-condescend
This congress of goyim and Jews.
“He’s too infra dig
To a concern us a fig.
For a bigot we’ll never recuse.”

As I remained stunned, out-flanked and out-gunned,
I pondered a life being rootless
With bitter profanity
And lack of urbanity
Against which all efforts were fruitless.

I started to think I should visit a shrink
For an outcome I can’t predetermine
When in walked a dame
With a German last name.
But I don’t think that she was quite German.

She said to project in words most direct
An image of my mother and father.
“Your mind is diseased,”
She said though quite pleased,
“With a trans-generational bother.”

“For thousands of years, the torment and tears
Your people inflicted on mine.
The wide distribution
Of mass persecution
Has tainted your very bloodline.

“Your customs are rot and likewise ill-got,
You steal what you can’t just acquire.
You put a white hood
Over all that is good.
You sweat when you well should perspire.

“But Ah! There’s a cure. You can start to abjure
Your future, your present, your past.
You’re not so unique
Nor immune from critique
When first is compelled to be last.

For this, I’m explicit. We hope to elicit
An historic, third-worldic invasion.
We hope to out-lead you.
The world to out-breed you
Till no one is left who’s Caucasian.”

Our hour was finished, my mind much diminished
By this scheming cognoscenti.
I was greatly injured
And I wasn’t insured.
The bill was for three hundred twenty.

This left a strange mark. I was forced to embark
For emotional oceans uncharted.
And the charge to remit
Of anti-Semit,
I’m now, but not when I started.

My head’s all a-tingle with a sickening jingle
Of polio and hepatitis B.
I’m becoming tone deaf to
A world that is left to
The Jew.
The Jew and not me.

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  1. Jud Jackson
    Posted June 15, 2016 at 11:36 am | Permalink

    Beautiful poem, Mr. Quinn. Reminds me of Lepanto by Chesterton or Paul Revere’s Ride by Longfellow.

    • Spencer Quinn
      Posted June 17, 2016 at 9:46 am | Permalink

      Thank you, Jud! I worked very hard on it.

  2. Bernie
    Posted June 15, 2016 at 7:47 pm | Permalink


    • Spencer Quinn
      Posted June 17, 2016 at 9:47 am | Permalink

      Thank you, Bernie!

  3. White Witch
    Posted June 16, 2016 at 4:29 am | Permalink

    But then I did stumble
    By electronic fumble
    Upon a truth-seeking site
    Wherein I found like-minds
    With whom renewed strength binds
    Determined don’t crumble just fight

    • Spencer Quinn
      Posted June 17, 2016 at 9:48 am | Permalink

      White Witch…thanks for this. I feel the same way.

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