When spaceships land at Tatooine en route
To parts unknown, the Empire, fearing trouble,
Has ordered its storm troopers to take out
Any spy who might put up a struggle.
Today, one hooded figure draws their eyes.
The troopers freeze as he raises his hand
And more figures appear—all the same size,
Stepping from the rabble when he commands.
As the hoods drop and painted faces stare
Back at the troopers, blackened lips all smiles,
The troopers panic. The live masks they wear
Terrify them! The troopers run for miles.
The Jedi sniggers. “Weak you are, Sith slime,
And strong I am in the ways of street mimes.”