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Ain't That Bad? (after Maya Angelou's poem of the same name)


Dancin' the Beer Barrel Polka
Eatin' Kielbasi and kraut
Diggin' that funky accordian
Lettin' it all hang out.


Puttin' down that hairnet
Loosenin' my bun
Wavin' my babushka
Ain’t I havin’ fun?


Hearin' Frankie Yankovic
Fixin' some knishes
Listenin' to Liberace
While I dry the dishes


Get down, Lech Walesa
Z. Brzezinski, too
Write, Joseph Conrad
(CONRAD? Heck, who knew?)


Now ain't they bad?
An' ain't they Polish?
An' ain't they Polish?
An' ain't they Bad?
An' ain't they bad?
An' ain't they Polish?
An' ain't they fine?


Pink like the first blush of morning
When the sun comes up and turns darkness into day
Pink like a cervix when it's giving birth
And a layette when a baby girl is on the way.


Andrew Golata in the ring
The Pope in the Vatican Court
Roman Polanski and Rubenstein
Pink men of every sort.


Dressing in navy and white and beige
Knockin' back vodka mash
Livin' our lives with zest and grace
Ain't we got panache?


Now ain't we bad?
An' ain't we Polish?
An' ain't we Polish?
An' ain't we bad?
An' ain't we bad?
An' ain't we Polish?
An' ain't we fine?