Sonnet: Would You Like A Room for the Night?
by John Kendall Hawkins
Oh Gaud! When the Dark Web becomes the Norm-
an Bates and "sin" triumphant Redemption,
and we lock our mothers in fruit cellars,
half off their rockers, mad fortune-tellers
who see Empires fall, without exception --
pull the wool over themselves to keep warm,
then through peepholes prying, shower room stalls,
we'll see the new revolution in blood,
clockwise or anti (it's too soon to tell
just how we'll do thieving beauty). All hell
will break loose like a horse put out to stud
only to hear gelding mares neigh out catcalls.
I reckon I'll hop off the bandwidth wagon
a spell and curl up and nurse a flagon.