Once upon a Tuesday eerie, while I labored, tired and teary,
Over things of great importance that were under my purview,
While I worked, my plan dispatching, suddenly I heard a scratching
As of twenty raptors hatching in the doorway - sacrebleu!
“‘Tis that polar bear,” I muttered. “Come to eat my cupboards through.
I’ll ignore it, and he’ll shoo.”
Thus I sat with pen and paper, and some Timbits for my labor
Making for myself a nametag as I had been feeling blue
That despite my protestation every single other nation
Still refused to learn my name and there was little I could do
For beyond polite insistence, what else was there left to do?
Then a voice said, “Let me through.”
Presently I left my writing, since the couch was more inviting,
Still quite steadfastly ignoring all the noise that did ensue
As the bear-beast growled, insisting, I continued my resisting,
Hoping there would be desisting yet before the door-hinge blew
“No, I won’t be letting him in. I’ve got better things to do.”
Towards the door, I whispered, “Shoo!”
But the bear continued scratching at the doorway’s weakened latching,
All the bolts were rather flimsy and the door was not so new
Horrified, I watched and waited, phony ignorance abated
Definitely not elated at what damage might accrue
Yet… a sentimental feeling in my thoughts began to brew
How I wished my name he knew
Of the bear I thought, depressive. Cute he was, though not impressive
In the way of intellect, but maybe I’d try something new
He was deaf to my explaining, but - perhaps with proper training -
Yes, of course, with proper training I could teach him what to do,
And I’d get the recognition that was so long overdue
That was what I had to do!
To the door I strode, elated with the plan that I’d created,
To the cries of, “Let me in, I’m hungry! Do you have fondue?”
As the door I opened, sighing, heedless of the furball’s crying,
You’d have thought the bear was dying, he made such a ballyhoo
Claiming he was faint with hunger, so I said, with much ado,
“Want a Timbit?” “--yes, I do!”
“Wonderful,” said I, ecstatic, and began to wax didactic:
“You can have this tasty Timbit but there’s one thing you must do.”
He leapt, for the Timbit reaching. “Not so fast!” said I, beseeching
That the bear might heed my teaching and the lesson would get through
“My name’s Canada,” I said, “Repeat it, please. Just once will do.”
He just frowned, and said, “It’s who?”
As I stared at him, despairing, inwardly I started swearing,
Wond’ring why he couldn’t get it when I’d told him - clearly, too!
Surely it was not confusing, yet he answered by refusing
Even with sound methods using, all I got was deja vu
But I couldn’t give up now - I simply had to see it through,
But just what else could I do?
As he pushed past, tired of waiting, I ate doughnuts, contemplating -
Realized I was deficient in my naming knowledge, too
Just what was his name, I wondered, as the bear my kitchen plundered,
As he through the canned goods blundered, I said, “Tell me, who are you?
Who is this who raids my cupboards and my words does misconstrue?”
“Kumajirou. Who’re you?”
Shocked, and on my Timbits choking, ‘Nah,’ I guessed. ‘He’s only joking.
He’s been talking to my brother and Al told him what to do.’
Alfred liked to cause vexation and he had a strange fixation
With annoying other nations, so this prank was nothing new
“Bear!” I said, “You know my name! Just say it! Parlez-vous!”
Then the bear said, “Who are you?”
“Ca-na-da,” I growled, repeating, as the bear resumed his feeding,
On the old and mushy noodles that I swear were mostly glue,
But alas he kept ignoring, spilling foodstuffs on my flooring,
‘Til I spoke to him, imploring, “Bear, you know that this won’t do.
“You should really mind your manners - and this isn’t a drive-thru!”
With a laugh, he said, “Says who?”
So I stared, with thoughts a-reeling, and a most unpleasant feeling
That above all else I’d bit off more than I could chew
Still I kept up, unrelenting, my whole part in this resenting,
“I am Canada!” I cried, lamenting. “And I’ll put you in a zoo!”
“You will learn my proper name or I’ll make sure this day you’ll rue!”
Quoth that mangy furball, “Who?”
I phoned my old mate Australia while the bear ate my azaleas,
Said, “I’ve got this horrid beast - I’ll trade you for a kangaroo.”
But alas I fared no better, and my heart fell through my sweater
Oz, forgetful to the letter, put my phone call in a queue
So I called up Al, instead, in hopes that he could put me through
Said my brother, “Wait - you’re who?”
To the kitchen now returning, stern determination burning,
“Listen, bear,” I said to him, “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!
“Do you think this game is clever? If you don’t cease this endeavor,
“Our relations I will sever, and you’ll have no more fondue.
“Please? For me? Just say it once, and end this pas-de-deux!”
He just stared, and said, “For who?”
“Poopyface,” said I, regressing (this whole thing was quite depressing,)
“Just what can’t you understand about the words I’m telling you?”
But the bear ignored my pleading, choosing to continue feeding
On the doughnuts, broke and bleeding jelly on my caribou
If I were more like my brother, I would swear that I would sue
No - this simply would not do.
No more! I was done with whinging - “Say my name!” I shrieked, unhinging,
“I am Canada!” I yelled, “And I’m the one who’s feeding you!”
“Say my name or else I’ll make you! I might even have to shake you!
“All your bear-gods will forsake you and it won’t be fun for you!
“Say it! - say it! Say my name! It’s CANADA - so say it, why don’t you?!”
Quoth that little hellbeast, “Who?”
And my name still goes unspoken, and my heart is nearly broken,
But someday I’ll give my brother quite a pointed talking-to
And the whole United Nations will take heed of my frustrations
I’ll skin that abomination, and I’ll make a rug or two
And I’ll get myself some missiles, and they’ll see what I can do
That’ll show them all who’s who.