Poem #156 of 365

I heard him on the radio,
he said and i quote
"Bilingual countries don't work!"

and I imagine a nice little
mudfight I'd like to invite
him to, wherein I'd let him
have it with a few bursts of
truth in his face, along with
the mud, of course,

and i'd speak
to him with a
multilingual tongue

in between the shoving
and sloshy dunking:

so, you don't want us to
speak another language, eh?

so, i guess you better not
say WOW from now on
cuz that originates from
a Senegalese language
you didn't know that, now
did you?
and why don't we just eliminate
BANJO from the "official"
language while you're at it
cuz it just might be a word
we got from--
AFrica!

and what are you going
to order at the restaurant
to dip your friggin chips
into, if you won't say QUESO
anymore, not that you ever knew
how to properly pronounce it!

and all those French phrases
you pride yourself on being
able to sprinkle into your conversations
"je nois se quois", "comme ci comme ça "
to appear as if you're a world-traveled
cognoscente on the Rhine,

well, spit 'em out, cuz remember you
don't WANT this to be a bilingual
country, and so you need to remember
this the next time you're tempted to
say "faux pas" or "au contraire"
while you're drinking your sha-blee,
in between bites of ESCARGOT.

You're slicing your tongue
to spite our race
uh, the human one,
because it should never be considered
declasse or ghetto or damn pobre tirado

to be able to eloquently
and resoundingly
speak words of different origins!

and then, i'd give his befuddled
mug one quick flick of mud
from my can't-be-bothered hands

and i sashay my big
booty, nalgas, derrière
outta there with my
cabeza, noggin, head
proudly held high

fait accompli.
!hasta la victoria!

(dedicated to the dreadfully-confused Tancredo)

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez