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...Give him a handful of seconds
and his turbocharged cyborg mind
could know what a man would do next,
and it happened time after time.

Carson chose to have fun with this,
he signed up to do some boxing,
read their moves and never got hit,
knocked out opponents while laughing.

But this grew dull, he turned it up,
would watch the financial TV,
instantly know who was lying,
and bought his stocks accordingly.

Soon he had built piles of cash,
but had to bring this to an end,
investigators were sniffing,
thinking he must be fraudulent.

For several years he did such things,
moving from career to career,
wrote hit novels, won an Oscar,
then would get bored and disappear.

But proving he was the greatest
grew tiresome, it was easy!
Carson wanted a challenge, yes,
and in his mind he hatched a scheme.

He felt like a God amongst men,
and gods did not limit powers,
he bet he could do anything,
would escape this mood so dour.

It started with a simple theft,
right out of plain grocery store,
observed cameras, walking patterns,
walked out with ten strip loins and more.

Saw no reports on the TV,
they had no leads they could pursue,
if Carson take things at will
there was little he could not do.

His next target, an armored car,
timed it to have a gang nearby,
in the shooting he snuck away
while gang-leaders went to be tried.

Following that came a big bank,
required a lot more planning,
he walked off with eighty thousand,
a teller was dragged off bawling.

But then, just as it was before,
the thrill of the thing did wear off,
he stole jewels out of museums,
threw them out, since the thrill was lost.

Inevitably he went worse,
went after women for the lust,
he’d read their moves if they fought back,
they’d soon be helpless to his thrusts.

He did this in disguise, of course,
and he read their reactions well,
he’d leave red herrings, fooling cops,
left boyfriends and bosses in cells.

This sated him for a whole year,
fathered bastards on his victims,
he could predict their fertile times,
thought that they should remember him.

But even this became boring,
women seemed so simple and weak,
and gods had power to take life,
so this new thrill Carson did seek.

He did not target the weak men,
they were easy, not worth his time,
he went after the big and strong,
a football player that first time.

The big man could have crushed him dead,
but moved so damn painfully slow,
Carson read him like a kid’s book,
sunk the knife deep with a swift blow...

CONTINUES IN PART IV.
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