(With apologies to Shelley)

I met a traveler from an post-modern land
Who said: “Two glass screens
Stand in the amphitheater. Near them on the dias,
Half sunk, a shattered image lies, whose pensive brow
And wrinkled lip and longing gaze of hope and change
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things.
The mouth that thrilled them and the heart that bled.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Barrymandias, King of Kings:
Hear my works, ye plebeians, and be transformed!’
Only the teleprompter remains.” —FrankenShelley

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