(for Andrew Kersting)
Today’s the day Roy Batty came to life—
if life it is to live as such a creature,
to be a mechanism made for strife
and fully planned in every salient feature.
In mind and body light years from defective,
he felt the awful weight of liberty–
and, harder boiled than any born detective,
he freely chose to be, just briefly, free.
Enough of all this vacant, abstract thought!
Philosophy is just a broken record.
In its tune let our hero not be caught!
In the end, it came down to him and Deckard.
The end was on its way — and far from slow.
He triumphed when he dared to spare his foe.