He stomps around In funny shoes Maniacal tumults Bemuse Presuming his Illusion’s Charming Alter-egos Not self-harming Nor alarming His appearance Law and order No adherence To the standard Hold your tongue The venom rhetorician’s Gun And still he wields the blade At play And shields his pain So far away From any castles Long relinquished Flames of war Now long extinguished Over all extinction Reigns Yet microcosmically Campaigns To win the favor Of the haves, The have-nots And thee Anti-class And still makes time To show the people Rags to riches’ Glitchin’ eagle Free to automate his nation’s Technological contagion Watch it promulgate the spaces Thought once safe From other races Then lay waste To opposition Let them live On one condition Kingdoms, queens Must be the means To mass produce The God machines