Sunday, April 8, 2012


My poem to Gunter

Dear Gunter,

As a gesture of support to another person smeared by the Zionist propaganda machine I offer a poem. It's not a deep neoclassical disquisition, or a pensive's more of a non-postmodern chin-up to a good guy and truth-teller.


Rick Congres

When the truth makes its arrival/the Israelis cry "blood libel."

It seems that the killers of children have sensitive ears/they cry in their beers
over the mention of unapproved facts

To criticize the Jewish state is heretical/downright antisemetical/especially a German/they are all Nazi vermin/but that's ok so long as they keep their mouth on vacation/and pay reparations/ but no, not Gunter!

It's a tough job running a Jewish democracy/getting attacked for hypocrisy/but how can you keep a place ethnically pure anyway/when the five and a half million won't go away?

If you knew what Vannunu, you'd be clued/Israel's got international-inspection- exempted A-bombs by the ton/ready to drop on anyone/just for fun?/who knows?

Suppose the Minister of Inferior detects/poor Gunter, that old derelict/trying to sneak around the wall/but Israel's high tech/they'd surely ID that crusty old Kraut/and shout/"Hey Gunter keep off the Grass!"

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