/lit/ - Literature

I wrote this for my buddy whose a Jew

The Camp’s Delouser’s Tale

They call me Speer Chanticleer, the gibbon gelding brig’dier
Boreal brethren I endear, in brassy blacks I strike fear.
Though niggers fear me, niggards are close on my back
Their locks shilling shylessly, their talking heads talking smack.
Many such cases, however, one sticks out like a nose
A young rabbi named Noel, the mouth on this yid, by Jove!
“Stop with your hate!” screamed the denizen of the desert
“You must be tolerant! Be fair! Goys must all live together!
Your parents won’t care, if they do, what’s the bother?
Who cares at all if your child looks like his father?
Tradition is racist! Science says so, look here:
Race is a fable, so is gender, all kids are born queer
Thank Yahweh for Freud” continued the preacher.
“Diversity is our strength, you should have paid more attention to your teachers!”

A train bell clanked in the distance, but the heeb was not to take heed
I flashed him a Saxon smile, my grin not as white, straight as me.
“My dear Semitic friend“, I began to intone
“The misdeeds of the twelve have not gone unknown
If your pace had been even, steady and slight
Perhaps you stood a chance of overwhelming our might
But my people aren’t ready yet to go into the night
White is right, gas the kikes!” The train burst into sight!
I cracked short Noel’s forelocks like the reins of a mare
Spun him thrice, took aim, watched him sail through the air.
Jew vanished into car, save a few notes and his lid.
Conductor Ben tipped his hat. That was that for that yid.