Instead of the cross, the albatross
                        About my neck was hung

                    -Coleridge, Rime of the Ancient Mariner

An albatross seems hung from around your neck
Or maybe you are hugging it to your heart
That steel and plastic engine of death-tech
That seductive vanity of satanic art

Where are you strutting with your deadly toy?
Why are you posing like a comic-book commando?
Oh, be a man, and not a dullard boy
You’re ‘way too old to play at G.I. Joe

There’s anger enough, and no more hate to give -
That albatross: get rid of it
                                                              ­         and live