Ballad of an Ungrateful Immigrant

— Nausea Nissenbaum

So... what're you getting for your birthday?
He laughs at the joke I don't get
Coz yesterday in economics class
He learned just what percent of Jewish girls
Want nose jobs for their sweet sixteens.

And every time I walk past
These boys yell out, 'hey Moses,'
Like it's the worst insult they could dream up
And I wonder how do they know?
When my eyes are blue    like theirs
And my hair is light    like theirs
And my skin my skin is whiter than theirs
That pale Polish complexion so unsuited to this ozone free climate.

But something gives me away
Coz my nose is all wrong
And my lips — they are fish lips — that same boy tells me.

So I wear a silver star around my neck
Like a big fuck you to their wholesome Anglo paradise
And every time a teacher stops me to talk about uniform regulations
I talk back
I talk about pogroms,
I talk about Jews taking communion and spitting it right back out,
I talk about Jews burnt at the stake and
Jews burnt in ovens
And after all that do you really think a detention's gonna scare me?

And when I talk, they listen
They listen, and they shut up, and they back off
Like the intensity in my eyes and the quivering in my voice
Is a knife that might start slashing
At their Anglo—Celtic—Saxon white white white reality.

In social studies we learn about the holocaust
My grandma's existence on display for these
Wide eyed blonde teenagers
Who stare and whisper as I bite my lip to dam the tears

Tears which burst out later, in drama,
When Wayne Lancaster tells the class how Hitler is his idol
And the AP apologises to me after my mum complains coz
Wayne's entitled to his opinion
But he needs to understand, you can't
say things like that in front of Jewish people.

Of course, most people are nicer
They tell me all about their granddads who fought in World War Two
Like they were fighting for my freedom and I should be grateful
except that my grandad also fought in World War Two
And when it ended he had no home to go back to.

So all I can say is, fuck you New Zealand
Yeah, I'll take your passport
I'll take your dole payments
But your smug gentile pity
Your churches on every corner
And your Christmas lights in every park
That you can shove up your touchas.

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