The Tenement Master
Takes a sponge to his wall
Scrubs, curates
the firmament clean of dust mites and possum droppings
Assumes that a congregation
will soon be formed around his newly sourced announcement
Lovingly declaring
Novel relationships built on the crucible of wealth and knowledge
He picks up a pen
Made out of the deformed sun-bleached bones of a long-perished arthropod
Manically scribbles up a body of text
Stylised, formatted
Complying with the latest trends in exchange etiquette
Advising, urging, in the smallest sense and greatest extent
Manipulating
Some random drifting ship
Towards its storm-wrecked beacon
Transmitting signals, obscure characters condensing, formulating another codex
Which reads, screams
"This bitch is about to fly, so get in there, get on it!"
A hatch opens on the bulk-side of a docking craft
And goods, painstakingly sourced, mined from within
a growing heap of forever fluctuating numbers
Start gushing out, running, flowing
into the gaping mouth of a transversely founded milling machine
Shining nameplate, forged dog tag
"Remember lads, we are here to serve you!"
Upon witnessing the associations behind all of these
is when you realise
That you've been had, by the curse of a Pharoah
Now the joke is on you
For buying into cryptic machinations
Fascade
For an rabid armada of tasselled pirates
Painstakingly waiting behind a hastily set-up blockade
Reflectively referred to as the BlockTrade
A Chtonian Stalk
Lurking under an unsuspecting merchant
Fresh out of the Silk Trail
Ambush!
Bringing on their cut-throat regiment
in for an ethereal kill
Marking the day onto a lucid page of ledgered history
When deep sea creatures get mercilessly slaughtered
By wave-faring, depth-charged, content-aware, daisy-chained
Bacteria