A Short History 

                         But still we bowl

                         In manicured lawns

                         Cough discreetly

                         Behind the covered hand

                         Seek absolution

                         In ornate temples

                         Worship pomp and privilege

                         How pretty the bland words

                         Serene the graceful gesture

                         We wear the medals proudly

                         Underneath the hatred

                         Parade through inner cities

                         Celebrate the pillage 

                         Through centuries of black humor

                         Facial muscles atrophied

                         They never smiled again

                         Except in malice or deceit

                         So lift your skirts high my dear

                         Away from the effluvia

                         Express the horror of evil words

                         And bodily functions

                         For the world was a wild place once

                         Before bladder control began 

                         If sometimes it is written

                         And the hand moves on

                         Down through the ages

                         They could have said

                         A noble race

                         With its heart on a sleeve

                         They did a merry dance

                         To a melancholy fife

                         On the edge of a precipice

                         Tra-la-la

                                                  Jack Mashman

                                                  1987