The Yanks

[brynmawr1]

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 culture
(to China’s Mozart the Salieri)
affronts the keener senses,
vandal of mended fences.
Away with the lot, 
this Ken Ham to Britain’s Cavalieri!
Their crimes are quite extraordinary!

Hi Busker,
This is delightful and the rhyme, everything, so well done. My only quibble is your affront to midwestern salads, better defined as Jello. This custardy thing you refer to I do not know. We prefer Jello for fourth of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and your average Thursday cuisine.  And, just so you know, for some it's 'catsup'.
Food is the real universal language that will unite us!
No eat, no live
Bryn