he breathes pollution
exhalations of corporate
caustic black smoke
nerves tight like drums
they pound out a call to war
a war which doesn't exist
so he wages war
against himself
and everyone else
he stuck two bolts in his neck
on top of his roof
devil forks of lightning
with arms like pistons
he punches holes in a million forgotten rooms
legs like a combustion engine
his gait shatters sidewalks
with an eye full of killing
and a constant squint
he extinguishes the sun
and laughs
a maniac in the dark

but he has a past
there aren't good people
or bad people
just people
with good or bad
stories
because we created him
this walking atom bomb
set to self destruct
because one day
many years ago
he was a child
who couldn't get to sleep
on Christmas eve
just like you
just like me