Real Toads: copper gas-lamps, cogs and gears

Today at the writers' group Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Kerry introduced "Steampunk" and, of course, I had never heard of such a thing, being somewhat old and more than somewhat decrepit.
Abandoned by my parents here in the vortex of old age, I have discovered my once-wild imagination to be gone with the winds of time and tide, so I can only write about the things happening around me in the dry and dreary present.
 
Today, for the Steampunk prompt, I am introducing a minor flaw in the otherwise sterling character of my housemate and lifemate, my intrepid photographer and present (until he reads this) husband, Richard Schear. Unlike myownself, he has no middle name, nor nary a middle initial, so I have taken it upon my aforementioned self to give him one, and it shall be X for the purpose of my first Steampunk poem, presented below for your delectation:
 

Professor Richard X. (for ’xtr’ordinary) Schear

is to me a person very, very dear,

but his interplanetary-wide reknown

is based upon a principle he found:

No matter how few do in a place reside,

it’s best to buy the food as for a pride

of lions, or a dozen men with brides

because the price of an individual item

is less than if he only buys just one of ’em.

High-falutin’ scientific principles, you see,

went into the making of this theory,

so my Professor Schear has now succeeded

in convincing people to buy more than needed.

His greatest influence, he found, was lending

his theory to Canadian feds whose spending

is far more than any in the private sector

and our PM has the morals of Hannibal Lector.

“We need 80 fighter jets,” he says to Dick.

“If you buy more, I’ll get ’em for you quick,”

the prof replies, though it’s a governmental lie,

but in the nation’s heart, these things pass by.

“Extraordinary!” the man in the street exclaims.

  

  

  

“You’re right, but this is how I gained my fame,

  by living up to the X, my middle name,

  and by playing the interplanetary game.

  Metallic brass steam-engines are just tame

  compared with ersatz dirigibles of iron

  and no one has caught on when hearing me lyin’.

  The juggernaut of government just rolls on,

  and last week I sold them all automatons

  to occupy their seats in Government House

  while each is somewhere else, being a louse.

  I pocket all their federal cash like clockwork

  and I can tell you it's easier than dock work.”

Photos from Wikipedia