A Passover Poem
Passover is the time for all
The Seder blooms around the globe,
Unnerving the Judeophobe.
It gives to communists a treat:
They love to leftward lean (and eat)!
They also like the history,
The parting waves, the “red”-named sea.
To boozers, Seders are just fine
Because they mandate drinking wine.
To children, joyfulness comes swift:
Each afikomen means a gift!
For people sexually inclined,
The “Heys-a-bed” leaps first to mind.
(For them, all dairy food is waste,
Carnivorous describes their taste.)
The former New York governor
Morosely now consumes moror.
He hopes this pungent, bitter herb
His appetite for sex will curb.
(He’s most contrite, up to the hilt,
And wishes to assuage his guilt.)
Some find it hard to give up bread:
They face the festival with dread.
Just see them downward thrust their thumbs
At sight of matzo-multi-crumbs.
These folks, though few, are wont to say
“This is a crummy holiday!”
So too do other critics state
That Pesach foodstuffs constipate!
But at the door Elijah knocks
For those who are true Orthodox
’Tis fitting that we make a fuss
About that ancient Exodus!
A gliklekher ovnt Pesakh nakht,
S’iz ven der seyder vert gemakht.
M’fayert es arum der velt,
Avu s’iz heys, avu s’iz kelt.
Far “communists” a gute tsayt,
Zey lign oyf der linker zayt!
(Far zey es hot a Yidish-tam,
Di mayse fun dem Roytn Yam.)
Un far shikurim epes fayn:
Zey zaynen fray tsu trinken vayn!
Far kinder, likhtikayt in ponim,
Matones “via” afikomen!
Far oysgelasene: Oy, a glet!
Zey trakhtn fun der Hes-a-bet!
(Far milkhiks hobn zey nit kheyshek,
Zey hobn lib in gantsn fleyshik!)
Kumt Spitzer yetst (gubernator),
Er frest un shlingt arop moror.
Er hoft efsher a bisl khreyn
Vet farendikn zayn “pain.”
Er hot kharote, est zikh oyf,
Vi antrinen? Vi antloyf?
Etlekhe kenen nit geyn on broyt —
Zey zaynen tomer meshuge oyf toyt?
Di matzo brekl iz far zey
Ekvivalent tsu “okh un vey.”
Der yontev iz bay zey a shpas,
On emesdikn mishigas!
Ken es zayn dos Pesakh maykhl
Brengt farhaltung tsu dem baykhl?
“Elijah” kumt tsu undz by nakht,
Ven nor a seyder iz gemakht.
Nu, iber im a tsimes makh!
Bagris im mit a vitz, a lakh!
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