CONQUEST CYCLE
by Ken Poyner
When the entire galaxy is without teeth,
The species with dentures rules.
Bring to each biosphere competition
And loss, sorrow and alliances.
Do not count the living things until
You have categorized them, established
Ownership, hold a plan for commerce.
Smash a useless nebula or two,
Let the star-faring tribes know
Your science is superior; let
Those who can only look up at the stars -Small brains addled by the sky -- imagine that
You are their God, and your fist
Opens and closes to make their hearts
Beat, to rearrange the Heavens, while
Their blood gratefully surges.
Make sport of their needs and excuses.
Let goods and services flow out of them
And become the exotic necessities
Sprinkled all along our thousand galaxy
Trade routes. Tax them for your crimes.
Gyroscope Review - !27