Penultimate

Simple as A-B-C,
it's the principle of the thing.
Razor Blade Boy saves the day
and rides a poison arrow straight

To the heart of the matter.
Who would be watching
little old me? And who
would be watching the watchers?

Quantum indeterminacy -- that damn
man in a box again.
Is he full of holes or isn't he?
Is he Archangel Michael on speed?

Or Christopher riding Eyore,
who bucks and spins and when
that morbid jack-ass
looks back he sees

a legion of bed bugs, every one
giving subtle shoves
to nudge him closer
to their reality.

Sucker punch -- the game
is a fix. Another hit
and he might remain
golden or lose a turn again.

"I like this guy. I like this guy."
"I don't like this guy anymore."
Freezer burn or Gillette -- the best
a man can get.

"Cowabunga, shazaam." "Really?"
"Yeah, really."
"Maybe, we'll see."
Great. Now put it all together.

For a day you'll be King
of the covert commandos,
an effigy to twist and burn
and unleash Armageddon.