“Make sup pork!”
(Pork-food, Alaska)
“Hey, sup’s pork!”
Pork-food Alaska.

Pork’s chewed. . .Alaska,
There’s goyim pork—the nosh is on.
Pork’ ’tude Alaska,
They’re goyin’ pork—the nosh is on.

The man belched scream-prattle
And expressed fear of the Jew;
His gorge spat out garbage
To a cop in Malibu:
“The cross is where they killed ’im,
Them clowns with big-nezer* gold!”
He’d blown; his ire was mountin’;
Just a livid mouthpiece of Rome.

Man’s on the majestic mountain,
Above valley far below.
He’d stalked and screamed at the Russkie
Of whom he was once the beau.
He took northern flight, post-runnin’ pie’l’,**
To the land of the Yid-Lite® fun.
Yes, man went north where kikes don’t command
How the flicks’ greenlights are done.

There no Yiddish he’s finding;
Pig cutlets he’s dining.
Pork-food, Alaska,
There’s goyim pork—the nosh is on.
Pork’ ’tude Alaska,
They’re goyin’ pork—the nosh is on.

“Pork out!” said man, and then,
“Kosher be damned!”
Said, “Ham is good for cookin’
While you’re toastin’ to Tehran.
I’m away from Goldbergs. . .”
Buried head in sand.
And one large bag o’ gold he’ll pay
For rants heard in TV land.

Yeah, he’d ragged on that woman,
Called her a “slut” and “slime.”
This gentile man gave huge snubs
To his gal online.
He’s built him an aerie, a hymie-none home,
Where no one hears his spoutin’.
How’d he get divorced in re Rome?!

There no chick bitch he’s finding—
“Witch!” “Slut wench!” opining.
North went Mad Maxster—
He’s there up north; the lush is gone.
North to Alaska;
He’s there up north; the schmuck is gone.

Way up north
(North went Mad Maxster)
Way up north
(North went the Maxster)

North to Alaska;
He’s there up north; the putz is gone.


*nose
**piehole