Incorrections or "What I Used to Call 'Em": Mister Ian Kerr-Mudge Boogies Down On His Euphemism Treadmill

"Material Girl: Olive Voile"
from the graphic series
"Men (and Women) of the Cloth:
Profiles in Textiles"
by Ulysses Poe
chemical markers
on prepared cotton fabric 
attached to mounted canvas
16" by 20"

     'N' word, schmen word! What about 
'C' words and 'O' words...not to mention
the additional baker's dozen initialed
cultural IEDs planted below?

I used to call 'em 'slaves,'
singin,' "Boom-a-lack-a-lack...!"
I used to call 'em slaves
which I took as short for 'black.'
Then Brother West purr'd 'twould be best
if I'd right quick fall back.

I used to call ‘em 'cripples,'

singin' “La-dee-do-dum-day.”

I used to call ‘em 'cripples'

‘cuz they tripp'd 'n' flipp'd that way.

Today they’re call’d 'disabled persons.'

(So: what did I say...?)

I used to call 'em 'old folks' homes.'
Sing "Tur-a-lur-a-lur..."!
I used to call 'em 'old folks homes.'
Their inmates...? Plu-mature!
'Assisted living domiciles'
where nurses "has-beens" cure.

I used to call 'em 'orientals.'
Sing "Carroo-carray"!
I call'd 'em 'orientals' 'cuz they 
hail'd from out that way.
But now I call 'em 'Asians.'
(They're still almond-eyed, okay...?)

I used to call ‘em 'coloreds,'

singin' “Wop-a-lop-bam-boom”!

I used to call ‘em 'coloreds'

‘cuz they brighten’d up the gloom.

(Who still must write of 'coloreds'

ought best use a nom-de-plume.)

I used to wish 'em 'Merry Christmas.'
Sing "Hip-hip-hurray!"s! 
But now it's 'Season's Greetings' --
that or 'Happy Holidays.'
(I'll skip that mess and just finesse
my Ebenezer phase.)

I used to call all women 'girls.'

Sing “Chitty-chitty-bang”!

I used to call ‘em 'girls,' which stirr'd 
such sturm. What's more, such drang.

('Tis best to call ‘em 'women' now,

to dodge your girl's harangue.)

I used to call 'em 'homos,'
singin' "Day-o, me-say-day."
I call'd 'em 'homosexuals,'
but now I call 'em 'gay.'
L...! G, B...! T, Q...! I, A...! P, K...!
Be that as it may...

I used to call it 'Frisco,'
singin' "Citee by the ba-a-ay."
I figur'd 'Frisco''d be the lingo
San Franciscans say.
But now I dodge that whole hodge-podge
and visit Monterey.

I used to call 'em 'niggardly.'
Sing "Ja-da-ja-da-jing"!
I call'd 'em 'niggardly' when they 
proved stingy with the bling.
But most misunderstood,
so now I don't say anything.

I used to call 'em 'Indians.'
Sing "Ob-bla-de, bla-da"!
I used to call 'em 'Indians' --
each brave, papoose 'n' squaw.
They're now 'indigenous personas.'
(Cf. Murphy's Law.)

'Retarded''s what I used to call 'em.
Sing "A-lack-a-boom"!
'Retarded' -- as they'd sit sedated
in their rubber room.
Still, better that than layin' flat,
encoffin'd in their tomb.

I used to call ‘em 'mongoloids.'

Sing “Ro-ma-roh-ma-ma”!

I used to call ‘em 'mongoloids.'

Now that's against the law.

They simply live with Down syndrome.

(Drum that -drome down your craw!)