Vanguard of the New Movement

Behind his polished cedar desk,

Surrounded by his phones,

Sits Blazer Dyke (the yachting type),

The Vanguard of the clones.

The archetype,

The number one,

The vanguard of the clones.

Crossing over busy streets,

Where noisy traffic drones,

Walks Blazer Dyke (without a bike),

The vanguard of the clones.

The autocrat,

The ectomorph,

The Vanguard of the clones.

He strides across the cobbled yard,

Where pawn shops offer loans,

That Blazer Dyke (whom I dislike),

The vanguard of the clones.

The cannibal,

The parasite,

The Vanguard of the clones.

He passes through the wicket gate,

To churchyards full of bones,

That Blazer Dyke (on a midnight hike),

The vanguard of the clones.

The necrophile,

The narcissist,

The coprophage,

The sybarite,

The telepath,

The Anti-Christ,

The Vanguard of the clones.

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