They found Jimmy Hoffa,
Halfway around the world, in Bangladesh;
White saviour dispatched to stop a
Proud civilisation from becoming a mess.
Magically reappeared, off to his address –
He was put in a CNG, or on a bus,
Maybe on a truck loaded with fish?
At least he was not sleeping with them!
Not enough formalin in all of Bangladesh
To bring a man back from the dead.
Home, bed, Jimmy boy snores;
Once awake he does not speak any more.
Speculation about moustachioed men
In uniform having taken him away –
Enforced disappearance, held in torture den
Where he prayed not to become prey;
Neither confirmed nor denied
Since by the golden law of silence he does abide.
Curiosity wanes, the whispers die,
No more interest to find the truth in the lie.
From little Britain to the walled US
People disappear in the tens –
Factually speaking, a daily occurrence;
Price of development, mark of progress,
Be proud that it is happening in Bangladesh!
The patriotic duty of every citizen
Is to celebrate without asking any questions.
Respect and replicate Jimmy’s silence.
In due course they all reappear, dead or alive,
Give it time, your turn too will arrive.
