The sin also rises, and sets prices.
The market is paying in beanstalks again,
and the giants of industry wear camo.
The center has held.
It’s the outside that’s spinning to pieces.
The casting of extras has abruptly ended.
Scenery is unrecognizable
and losing interest.
Bears have killed the stockade’s only bull.
They say there’s weeping in the condo silos.
The nest egg’s been aborted.
Newer chemicals now define the meat.
Billions and billions of drones
are alit on the head of a pin,
ready to pop the world.