POEM: The So-Con

I have nothing to feel for Canada
The sore is too deep and wide
There used to be something in me
Resembling pride

I have been wounded, wounded, wounded,
The stabs have made me numb
Inured me to the charge of bigotry
And mainstream odium

I am the intolerant
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Nailed again and again
For being a fundy

I am vide,
apatride,
A political invalid.

With only decadence in view

I cling for dear life
To Psalm Twenty-Two.