the drones of prole patrol the moon 
that satellite of filth - 
their lanterns mark the greasy poles 
its dark side pepper (salt

with futile cries & lunar dews & sad 
stories drones will tell of
extra-terrestrial rents & arbitrage by 
mammon's earthly (hags

o'er those captains of industry whose 
gold we gleefully polish
in our dull second-class illusion we will 
rise above the (swill

for life is complicated by the fact we 
all must die but also 
by the fact that tungsten's rare & bitumen 
scarce as well

still we pave our lunar (roads & the drones 
of prole asssemble 
until someone flicks a switch then via 
teleportal shoots them 

& thus arriving new on the moon they're 
sent to work the mines
or steer the portal ships that bring the lunar 
riches back to earth

to feed the new (machines that give us birth 
we're programmed 
to repeat then fade like instrumental tracks 
the germ of human 

struggle manufactured (soup & on the drones 
of prole do seethe
in chatter & in bits ‘twas ever thus & thus 
shall be their role 

to us (resist as we look up through mists 
to see the moon's dim 
gulf of proletaria - that new eureka 
for the (proles

B. O’D. (date)

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