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It was a painful insect ecstasy,
Not just a passing childhood fantasy.
A crazy case of mob democracy,
Beyond control, become monstrosity.
Sometimes we pull a Frankenstein,
A blatant mis-use of technology.
I'm not a Luddite, nor in Apostasy
Against the rules of good Biology.
But think about our old friend Frankenstein,
For when he drank too much from his old beer-stein,
He was befuddled by a toxic wine,
An alchemy of mystic ancient vine,
He crossed the line, became a sordid sign,
Of what we fear,a techno-Frankenstein.
copyright Ron Stephens 2012
all rights reserved
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