The Spoonbill Generator

That Superficial Sniper

He snaps his fingers with such authority [N]

That minions are impressed and duly cower [F]

And although one day they may hope to overpower [N]

For now, they bow to his seniority. [will]

He flicks his hand with such panache [F]

That slaves obey his every beck and call [N]

But really, when you think about it, overall [F]

It's not cachet he has, but cash [Ethetran]

He bows his head so rarely now [Tembrel]

That some suspect his power has gone too far [N]

His eyes, fixed on a distant star [e]

Are glassy now and cold, the god of Tao [F]

Contributors: N, F, will, Ethetran, Tembrel, e.
Poem finished: 23rd September 2003.