Good Friday Sonnet
by John Kendall Hawkins
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Well, by God, isn't that a kick in the head!
Just moments before he was being dressed
for dinner by cannibals -- the sole guest.
He said, "Look at the bird," and ran instead.
Transubstantiation was not his bag --
'ain't gonna make my black ass host and wine,'
said Friday, who was good, and loved the Divine,
and was a 'tranny' even now in drag.
He came under the high heel of Crusoe,
his new rich master, and was converted
to Jesus; at Easter he reverted
to magical thinking, slaughtered a goat.
The two lived happily ever after
in middle class splendor and soused laughter.
