(Make sure it’s nice and cold!)
To the victims of military and technological progress in the global war on the terrified. Sorry about all the noise. I hope you can still sleep at night.
If you’re looking for someone without a competitor
or you think that your enemy’s life needs an editor,
reach out and shake the pale hand of your creditor:
Superman is his name, but his nickname is Predator.
A remote-controlled airplane that drones through the sky,
firing missiles at people who are chosen to die,
as untidy as freedom, but as sleek as the thigh
of a tall supermodel who has death in her eye.
When you have this much power, you don’t need to explain
even actions a doctor might conclude are insane.
Let your heart turn to iron and relinquish your brain.
What remains of the motive? More of history’s pain.
But technology’s cool so mass-murder’s okay.
This ensures no pedestrians get in your way;
keep on fondling buttons from a chair far away–
killing folks is a snap–go on, have a nice day!