THE MACHINE GOD

He rose from the great fire
that consumed all the old gods,
or at least turned them to his gasoline

His feet are made of blood-red iron
with toe-nails of money

His legs are of the coldest steel:
his knee moves on a robotic wheel

His arms and torso are of silicon
and speed info to a million pawns:
moving them with monies, ideologies, and "moralities"

His horns are holographic: many-colored, neon, and thick

His brain came from living men: maybe five, maybe ten,
and was engineered to be brilliant and sane,
to torpedoe through every day,
to always wax and never wane

And he says: "Be a team-player;
be efficient; FIT IN"
And with much bowing, submission,
and veneration,
they all repeat this mantra
that their ancestors taught him