Sonnet: The New Salem State
by John Kendall Hawkins
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Create the Chaos. Be the Solution.� "�
Plant the seeds. Get them pointing. See who "drowns."
Foreigners are the best props. Make them clowns.
Wink out monotonic elocution.
All good cheeky fun for the Far-Flungs.
Rent their ears out, a buck-fifty per hour.
Spend hours burnishing their White Power.
Peyton Place pettiness hypocrite tongues.
I'd leave, but can't; therein lies a clue.
Here, they'll never say a thing to your face --
like in prison, the argot, the rats pace --
sledge in the crease, bowl Warnie, charm school zoo.
Cult diggers one minute, mobsters the next
And shhh! Don't tell anyone, send a text.
