Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
Now, Don Cacafuego is surly and mean;
the baddest bad hombre the world's ever seen.
He runs a tight ship, and it's Christian, what's more;
he packs up those Muslims and shows them the door.
So don't get all cocky, start runnin' your mouth
'bout all those poor beggars that came from the south
and pinched all the jobs, for two-fifty an hour—
they're gone, just as soon as they've built him a tower.
And if you get threatened while you are in school,
just holler for Donald, he's nobody's fool.
He'll hold off those gunmen, he'll pummel the lot;
just scream, he'll come runnin' in, packin' or not.
The women all swoon when The Don is around,
'cause just like he tells it, his charms know no bounds.
He might call them dogs and make jokes that are crass,
but Don always knows where to get him some ass.
So on with the voyage, haul anchor, we're off;
and pay no attention to those who must scoff.
We're destined for Dream World, where there's not a care,
and Don Cacafuego will lead us all there.
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Author Notes
Today's word: cacafuego (n.) a blustering braggart.
There's only one subject this poem could have been about, given the word of the day. Those with a smattering of Spanish will probably recognise that cacafuego literally means "fire-shitter". Sorry, but that's a fact.
The story behind this word is longer than I want to relate here, but it goes way back to an encounter between Sir Francis Drake and a Spanish galleon, the Nuestra Senora. Hence the nautical theme at the beginning and end of this poem.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book.
Thanks for reading.
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