School of Thought

A work in progress was he,

His handlers hoped he might be fine,

But similarities they could see;

And were they building a Frankenstein?

All the spooks and all the shrinks

Dedicated to altering states,

They were moulding how he thinks,

Each of them bent by their own shapes.

Bits and pieces from the scrap heap,

Wisdom like wing nuts – whatever fit;

Sort of like a World War 2 Jeep

One might buy from an old kit.

Now if you listen close you’ll hear

The nuts and bolts rattling around,

While the spooks and shrinks are pretty clear.

The right parts they haven’t found.

It’s not an exact science, they say,

Each coming from their own school of thought,

While poor Frankenstein sits, rusting away

Because his screw’s missing no one’s got.