A Villanelle for God
California you have met your fate
Liberals who do not pray
Atheists who do not open the church gate
I am tired of your plastic bait
Mannequins by the bay
Coming to the altar late
Trying this lovely state
But failing like the month of May
Singing like Bonnie Raitt
Holding my stronger mate
As the crimson sun licks the day
Begging for no more hate
Tourists wanting to be the next Hepburn of Kate
But never stay
Past the date
Celebrating pride cannot wait
If we do not go away
Love satiate
The bible integrate
A Villanelle for New Orleans
I for my hometown cry
It me satisfaction brings
I don't know why
Like Captain Bly
My soul sings
While I eat pie
Jackson Square you are no lie
Your beauty stings
Architecture is a sigh
Red beans and rice from my plate fly
Like English kings
A natural high
Mardi Gras on the sly
Every February rings
For each fun-loving boy and guy
The Saints play football by and by
Every Sunday they throw a fling
Where the haters die
True zealots getting drunk on rye
Reservation Abomination
They command
While you cry
Offering brown sand
What is the name of this band
That does not lie
Only weep when officials steal their land
God did not appear for a hundred grand
But did sigh
Making a last stand
Holding my hand
Jesus lifted me high
I felt like Ayn Rand
There is no magic wand
But a day to die
Like a black gland
I keep my past near like a narrow strand
At least I try
They do not understand
Nor can they demand
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