I don’t like Bengalis
They’re rather loud and ugly
The groups of Gujratis
I’m sick of Khakhras, I want Chapatis
The loudest- Punjabis,
Why can’t they be a little less happy?
And then come the Marwadis
Successful and well maintained, annoyingly.
The lost-in-caravan Goans,
The nobody-really Konkans,
The illiterate Maharashtrians,
The much too literate Southerns,
The poor Odiyas,
The over-compensating Bhaiyyas,
There’s not a single pretty face
So I’ll pass up on the human race.
I’d rather not go to Italy,
Another race with emotions on high-velocity,
I can’t stand the sight of Germans
Whatever did God do to them?
Not worse than what’s done to Japan-
Another disappointing land,
If only I could command,
I’d fly away to outer space
And pass up on the Human Race.
Rather not be around French men,
They’re for a night alone, and never again.
The Americans- fewer hours still,
The English- they’ll only make you hostile,
The Russians with their human missiles
And the International Brazillian pedophiles,
I cannot spell the disgrace
So I’d rather pass up on Human Race.
I cannot hurt the middle east
More than what hurt it’s done to itself at least
I cannot spell out the borders numerous,
I’m to surely pass up on a territory, a smaller country
A stereotype may be neglected,
To offend the Latinos deluded,
While in the African continent,
There’s somewhere a trumpet, or maybe an elephant,
Blowing a horn divine, reminding us that time
Is our only true enemy,
It doesn’t matter who you are or if it is the same as me,
It’s our final lap, our one last fight, our only race
Or we could simply pass up on the Human Race.
Originally published here
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