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