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The Company Of Shill
DS (270552 / Australia)

The Company Of Shill

Poem By David SmithWhite

At the locus of focus, the net or the tube:
all hocus and pocus, and the gullible rube.
There's seekers and speakers, cold readings askew,
while spruikers spit mucus in full circus view.

There's makers and shakers with acres to burn.
There's mad raucous hawkers that peddle in turn,
the collateral markets, the Promis and pitch.
Selling short options, and the lure to be rich.

Money makes the world revolve.
Upon its' axis spin.
Sunny breaks for all involved,
that guide the gear and 'gin.

There's takers and fakers who plan the next coup,
with the jokers and brokers, their bonus in lieu.
There's flayers and slayers of truth at a slew.
Players, soothsayers; a Jonas and crew.

Money makes the world revolve.
Upon its' axis spin.
Funny when one problem's solved,
another soon begins.

There's actors and factors and entrepreneurs;
the bankers that yank the tight strings of the purse.
There's creatures and leeches and foul witches brew,
and lookalike hookers that prowl in the zoo.

Money makes the world revolve.
Upon its' axis spin.
Spun we have become resolved,
to distance greed from sin.

At the loci of foci, both hawkeye and boob,
gamble in numbers, irrational and cubed.
The erratic mathematic at odds that accrue,
to impoverish the masses and favour the few.

There's backers and packers and hackers to woo.
Truth to be lacquered and varnished anew.
The moxy of proxy, the alchemist stew;
while spruikers spit mucus in full circus view.

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