The Yanks

[busker]

For the Han, my foreboding’s miliary,
for the French, mostly linguistic,
and Japan I hate for that damned mystic
Tom Cruise nonsense,
my neighbours for lacking lawn sense.
And modern cricket, for having a gully nary,
but for the Yanks, my distaste is culinary.

For all that deep fried chicken bastardy
and Midwest salads custardy.
Their soups too, thickened
with cornflour, quickened
with Heinz tomato ketchup,
in a flailing boomer stitch-up.
I say sans humour Mr Mullinery:
for the Yanks my dislike is culinary.

Like a smouldering vulture
the hegemon of fast food culture
(to China’s Mozart the Salieri)
inflicts painful offences,
to hurt the keener senses,
like pineapple on pizza - call the carabinieri!
Their crimes are quite extraordinary!