Welcome

Welcome to the third world,
bring a date but lock your car,
and don’t look so surprised
if you don’t know where you are.

Wild dancers in the big hotel,
the ones we saw on channel twelve,
nobody works from noon to three
or eight to noon, if you ask me (good time for a shopping spree).

The dogs here all look like mutts,
the natives live in quonset huts,
the weather comes from paradise,
a cardboard shack would suit us nice (a bargain at half the price).

Welcome to the third world,
hope you’re not too late,
there’s a killing to be made
in beachfront real estate.

With each new tourist on its shore,
their consciousness is raised summore,
how else do you teach a nation
the concept of a vacation (forced relocation?)?

Right this way to the bon marché,
I haven’t made a sale all day,
despite the economic crisis
Igot first world clothes at third world prices (the veddy nicest!).

Welcome to the third world,
nothing is at stake,
if you don’t mind, from time to time,
leaving beggars in your wake.

The theater is air-conditioned,
the restaurant has my favorite dish n’
look straight ahead, try not to listen,
’til we reach the Catholic mission.

I wouldn’t say that brochures lie
but I ain’t seen corned beef on rye,
the French bread comes with real jam, but
it’s hard to find a decent ham (from an imam).

What are they complaining for?
it’s beautiful from the fourteenth floor,
far away from all those flies,
look how much a dollar buys (they’ve never been that high).

Babies wear their hungry voices,
the simple life has no hard choices,
at least say hi when you pass by,
we’re all the same the day we die (so bleed it dry).

Welcome to the third world,
in case you missed the sign,
aside from fancy party talk
it’s just a state of mind.

(‘Global South’ was not a term at the time of this ranting …)

Producing famine

Please don’t turn that TV dial!
Won’t you sponsor just one child?
Hunger like you never seen,
call the number on your screen.

Movie stars can cry with ease,
how can you ignore their pleas?
Those kids’ll feast on lemonade,
once the TV bills are paid.

Now we’ll take you on location,
(always good for new donations),
Get that one with sunken eyes and
point the camera til he cries.

That swollen-bellied hungry glare?
Put the oboe solo there.
Third world on late night TV,
everyone’s a refugee.

Moussa’s family (neighbors, too)
comes running when the camera crew,
pulls up in the shiny car,
they think he’s a movie star.

He gets lots of clothes and books
(not to mention funny looks),
times are hard for families,
with just one celebrity.

To the mission school he goes,
tells of sodas in frigos,
his cousins scrap for empty bottles,
Model Christian, or Christian Model?

Tired of famine on TV?
Redirect your energies,
toward the donors that we churn out
suffering from compassion burnout.
Before you leave that TV console,
won’t you sponsor just one sponsor?

On a mission

We’re missions and we’re sal, uh, vatin,’
sorry if we kept you waitin,
the duty’s paid on the flags and poles
to stake our claim to your lost souls.

We were sent here by the grace
of God, who’s given us a place
in town, that’s where we’ll spend our nights
as soon as we get water and lights.

Look at all those runny noses,
praise the Lord and pass out the clothes,
how to tell a naked heathen,
this is not the Garden of Eden?

Competition everywhere,
Christians fighting for a share,
a million souls up for grabs,
our Dallas branch is keeping tabs.

We’re the missions sent from God
and not to be confused with frauds who
preach false words–the very worst,
remember where you heard it first.

To facilitate our bible class
we will have a special mass
and baptize you the Christian way
to give you names that we can say.

Hand the girls those uniforms
and put the boys in separate dorms,
sorry the family’s got to go, but
Luke twelve fifty-three sez so.

Tradition’s not an easy foe,
but we’re prepared to undergo,
many droughts and much relief
to rid you of your false beliefs.

We’re missions and we’ll take a stand,
we’ll help you with your family plan,
no other mission will eclipse
our ever-growing membership.

You say your main concern’s survival?
Can’t attend the next revival?
when your load’s heavy, think of us,
we carry the burden of the cross.

Sometimes we’re misunderstood,
we’re doing this for your own good, but
from our homes they try to yank us,
some day when we’ve left, you’ll thank us.

‘As sudden as a heart attack,
you lost us when you turned your back,
but don’t feel bad, you sowed the seed,
where else would we have learned to read?’