Seriously, nothing would surprise me.
The land we love is turned into a store,
Prettied up for foreigners, while we
Are salesclerks and waitresses, no more
The warriors of old, the priests of passion,
Royalty of tongue, the banshee dancers.
Instead, we have become the latest fashion,
Cheapened by the sale itself, the prancers
Kindled by a check to do their
chore.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.