SEDUCERS OF SOULS

A creature stalks the woods and the fields of the rust belt
gathering farmers and miners, wretched men, unemployed.

They are thirsty for a savior, for the snake oil salesman
who has slithered out of the ooze and slimy embankment
to do battle with the others not white enough to breathe.

Beckoned by the bannons, millers, stones, wart hogs, gorkas,
they clamor for the taste of slanted eyeballs, a delicacy,
foreign tongues, barbequed black or brown babies,
entrails of Muslim rescue seekers, all to savor and swallow
at a banquet of brutal billionaires, angry seducers of souls.

He is the bleached blond pied piper shouting his mantra
into ears of incensed men who blame their woes on foes —
the indivisible invisible hordes not lurking at our shores.