We folks in Connecticut adhere to good etiquette,
never covet, philander, or kill.
No one ever comes late to their job in this state
and we never miss work ’cause we’re ill.
Our vistas are stunning, and no one’s seen running
from robber or rapist or bum.
Everyone smiles. None lack domiciles.
You won’t see a soul looking glum.
Neither slum nor a mansion nor urban expansion
you’ll find in this fabulous region.
No one’s ever pugnacious; instead, we’re all gracious,
with affordable health food stores legion.
Our cars don’t pollute, all the women are cute,
and the men are all free of addiction.
All our children are smart as Curie or Descartes,
and I am the King of Pure Fiction.
Martin Elster is a composer and serves as percussionist with the Hartford Symphony Orchestra. His poetry has appeared in Astropoetica, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, The Chimaera, and The Road Not Taken, among others, and in anthologies such as Taking Turns: Sonnets from Eratosphere, The 2012 and 2015 Rhysling Anthologies of science fiction, New Sun Rising: Stories for Japan, and Poems for a Liminal Age.