Hordes of eager missionaries
Noses deep in
dictionaries
Carving up the jungle
On their speedy bicycles
Hammering in their tent pegs
Staggering on bent
legs
Turning passionate natives
Into human icicles
Putting them in trousers
Covering breasts with
blouses
Hushing up their genitals
At afternoon tea
Bright with beads and bibles
Messing up the tribals
Saying No and Not and Don't
And teaching chastity
Hordes of anthropologists
Seeking anthropophagi
Busy with their notebooks
Quoting Malinowski
Some to hot Nigeria
Some to cold Siberia
Looking for the natives
Told to bugger offski
Belting through the Cameroons
Notating all the
native tunes
Dancing with the native girls
Sharing in their crimes
Hearing horrorstruck the news
They're deprived of
their tabus
Jungles aping Birmingham
Letters to The Times
Now the wretched missionaries
Scrambling on their
dromedaries
Packing up their primus stoves
Labelling trunks with Home
Some to distant monasteries
Some to publish
glossaries
Some to lantern lectures
Others back to Rome
Blessed opportunity
Visits the community
The
spaceways are open
The cassocks ready pressed
Mark will go to Sirius
John will be delirious
Luke at large in Betelgeuse
Matthew'll do the rest.
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