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Nebbish Nation

When God, or so the story goes,

Decided to make man.

He lacked a competence with toes,

So with the nose began.

His ‘image and his likeness’ formed

The pattern for the chap,

Adam, with beard and specs adorned,

Bald head and Jewish cap.

His hooked nose and two flat feet,

And sallow skin, made all complete.

Though one may find this creature odd,

What does this model tell of God?

In God’s defence I must submit,

Though big G’s efforts looked like s**t,

One should not hold him in contempt.

It was the author’s first attempt.

And, having little time to rob,

From universe creation,

With strict instructions, left the job,

To his best angel, Satan.

God, who it seems, was not impressed,

By Lucifer’s clay elf,

Reflected that a job done best,

Is one you do yourself.

Said God; “It doesn’t look like me,

You’ve not observed my strictures,�

The trickster, peeved, said, “Pardon me,

I don’t do ‘pretty pictures’�

God placed a tiny painting brush,

Into one tallonned hand,

“Now go into the Hindu Kush,

And paint each grain of sand.

Surrealist! Saharian wastes,

From Libya to Mali,

May challenge your affected tastes,

For Oppenheim and Dali.�

How many craftsmen from the start,

Prove masters of their chosen art?

God’s next attempt formed the Arabians,

Then lots more, till with Scandinavians.

And Germans, had his image right

Said Wodin (God); “I think I might,

Improve this race with souls and wits�

So finally he made the Brits.

Before man, he’d made apes and rats,

Republicans and Democrats,

And slimy versions of bipedia,

Which now infest the Western media.

So there stood Adam, looking sad,

In spite of all the world he had,

“What ails? Thou most ungrateful sod?�

Enquired, ‘the word’ (the word was God).

“Just look at all these flowers and grass,

You don’t know how I’ve worked my ass,

Off. You don’t know your luck,

What are you like? Some dumassed shmuck?�

“Enough already, so you’re bored.�

Observed the irritated Lord,

“You stridently demand a mate,

These things take time; you’ll have to wait.

It could take Twenty years or so,

For me to form Brigitte Bardot.�

“I make this plan in which I fix a

Date for you, a high-class shikse,

*Me! He complains, Oh what a Kvetch!

I’ll take a rib out of the wretch,

From which I’ll make- Oh what the heck,

Some kind of woman from the dreck.�

And so the woman, quickly made,

By Adams sleeping form was laid.

So, ten years passed then God popped by,

To chew the fat and just say ‘Hi!’

Found both men clothed, Eve had a rug-on-her,

“My life!� said God, “You’ve gone meshuggenehs.�

“What are you doing, what’s the matter?

Why do you need to wear such smatter?�

Round Eden, Adam’s new-built wall,

Stood three feet wide and ten feet tall,

Outside of which a starving band,

Of animals were forced to stand,

While Adam snoozed upon the ground,

And Eve, her belly big and round,

Peeled one last apple from the tree,

For pork with applesauce for tea.

“My paradise, you’ve made a hell,

That wall; it’s just like Israel,�

“Israel?� Quizzed the woken lout,

“In Six millennia, you’ll find out.�

The Godhead heaved a heavy sigh,

And sat him down. �Methinks,

I did my best to please this guy,

Why did they turn out finks?�

His thoughts were interrupted by,

Eve shouting, brash and shrewish,

“I think I know the reason why,

Seems Satan made them Jewish!�

Thought God: ‘A small experiment,

May justify my theory,’

“Say, Adam, why so discontent,

So miserable and dreary?�

“Food of the Gods I gave to you,

My happy sows and piglets,

And apple trees I planted too,

Now they’re just bones and twig lets.�

“These animals,� The Jew replied,

‘The small, the weak, the great,

Just make me sad and blue inside,

Because I need to hate.�

“To dominate the whole world wide,

Is what I long to do,

Gain mastery of all beside,

Including, God, of you.�

At this, God, swished his axe around,

And drove them from the glade,

Amongst the wreckage, on the ground,

The meal that Eve had made.

“Henceforth.� Roared God. “You’ll never taste,

The flesh of pork, divine,

Delicious hams were just a waste,

On you, as pearls to swine.�

“So now, although you journey free,

From Ghent to Guadeloupe,

Your only sustenance shall be,

Bland, greasy, chicken soup.�

Then, in that dark and gloomy place,

A miracle occurred,

A smile spread over Adams face,

And joyous cries were heard.

“What do I care that I’ve been placed,

Across this dismal ocean,

For now, with dominance and hate.

I have a third emotion.�

“I’m hated! Persecuted too!

How wonderful that he might,

Be predisposed to hate a Jew,

For God’s an anti-Semite!�

(* He would have exclaimed ‘God’ but since he was God..)

© John Michael Bayldon