The Pride

 

Huzzah!

This old and gummy English lion

Feeding on the tears of little girls.

Finding its bravery in packs

Of like-minded scavengers

Who prowl and growl

And claim a foul

For every perceived slight

In history.

 

Huzzah! Hurrah!

We won a contest

Prejudiced by racist taunts

And sieg-Heil accusations

By the Nazis

Towards the reconciled.

Rumbling boos and monkey gestures

Directed within the pride

of England’s dreaming cubs.

 

Huzzah! Hurrah! Huzzah!

At last at last

We won a match

Now all the hate has dissipated

Cast out in chants

The poison drifts upon the breeze

Like an obnoxious virus

Waiting for the hands and face and space

To settle and recirculate