Front Elevation

Fancy term or what?
There’s a plethora these days.
Hackneyed worn bearing,
Tossed about, misused,
Technobabble galaxy whose who.
They “reign” on everyone’s parade without compunction.
ATM backlit, ghostly visual white for blinkered shades or suspect eyes.
Blue screen of death an odds on bet, as I shield my buck-rich laminate from sight?
Platinum advantage on display,
cat scrawl on card holder’s text field.
Sorry, out of order message out of order.
In every sense.
Bane of spendthrift and gadget freak alike when contemplating major splurges.
Report at once what’s tampered and defaced but where?
Decommissioned stations have been air brushed from the planet in a flash.
Shady figures lurk with cratered dials,
jack the lad jokers one and all,
impish grin, aposematic cheek, a pose, a roguish cover.
Protective colour in high flag, enigmatic scene shifter throwing curved balls.
Contortionists who crane their necks, body straining fun figures, streetwise jester always off the cuff.
Giraffes of gritty subways, ghoulish and graffitied, swindlers savvied  up to pounce at will.
Zooming in.
Zero in on hapless victims stunned and dazed.
Sprint runner carting off the booty as though it were their birthright.
Scarlet pimpernel, scourge or saviour, brazen hacker in broad daylight,
sneaking dodgy heists by robot sentries.
Moonlighting maverick, tainted urban Robin Hood, arch nave academic or a con.
Vultures on the prowl with heightened sensors cast an Orwell shadow.
Big brother watches from those scam-laden theaters located all around.
Birds of prey, flap their ruffled wings before they strike, air borne swoops trained to hit the  mark without a hitch.
Another grubby term that’s coined in situe,
a thin air phrase just waiting to be plucked,
buzzword of the underworld beloved by crooks and sharks.
Mark you!
Spy rings slowly morph into the maze of human tailbacks.
White collar, blue collar, each with its own trademark dress code.
Suave attire through skimp and save  or thieving snatch.
Yo, enterprising ne’er-do-well!
Opportunity knocks.
Identity theft.
Well, there’s modern mantra with no mute button waiting to be zapped.


MaryPP's picture
You have included so many ideas in this one MyNAh! Like some of James Joyce's writing, it is a stream of consciousness and I believe there is enough for a number of poems inside ! Best of luck in the contest!

Mary PP

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MyNAh_27's picture
Thank you so much, Mary PP, for reading my poem and your comments which I always act on. There are indeed quite a number of poems in this entry now that you mention it. Congratulations on recent member poem of the day award, MyNAh_27

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