Nebulous and Refined**

The castle is a chain-smoker.
The king wears a three piece suit.
And in the air, most everywhere
that scent just does not dilute.
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A car lot filled with scribes and serfs
that assemble to deliver their willing tax.
They bump and argue for the closest view
of their Man-God on high: Glycine max.
-
Employment is down! Crime is up!
What if the factories all move away?
This town will surely shrivel and die!
That's what the soiled townsfolk say.
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They humbly bow to their master's whim
but behind him they say much more.
Another Dead Man found Stale Lee in the vents.
Carcinoma galore.