started with six likes a day,

next year it was thirty-six,

the year after it was clear,

exponentially queer,

that by year five they’d conquered the earth.

now reaching out to the stars,

they gathered followers from a far,

gaining wealth to buy the galaxy.

now musk is so small,

his cardboard box not so tall,

as the king of the milky way,

grants him a small patch of hell,

maybe somewhere between

uranus and a grin,

black holes that will never tell.

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