Archive Boogeyman

There once was an inept supermall developer,
A dim witted but ardent interloper,
Who often within the Bullamanka archive lurked.
So whenever he found an empty head he smirked,
"Here is the place to place my last mall."

He tried his best up North to give it his all,
Hoping to build till nothing historic could remain
Yet soon found expansion insane to gain,
With rabid Mainers guarding their gravelly one-liners.

So he moved on to the Carolinas
To be rebuffed by rampant overmalling,
Finding everywhere a lack of history appalling,
He could not find enough battlefields
To pave over in search of higher yields.

He flew to Penciltuckie to rent a canoe
But found it was not a safe thing there to do.
The bats ate his belfry, his lobotomy leaked
So late last Monday night he sneaked
To Atlantic City where he tangled with savvy lawyers
And in a bordello deal almost lost his drawers.

In Maryland he borated his Chessiepeak crabs
Which he left sprinkled in Madhattan in some schmuk's cabs.
In Connecticut head-on he met a raspy craft guild
That refused to let him indiscriminately build.

He jumped an Amtrak to Michigan to enter politics
But ended infested with bedbugs and ticks.
Itched his way to Memphis, Tennessee
But was not allowed to stop long enough to take a pee.
Which he had to hold till he got to Mississippi
Where they offered him a bath in fly-ash tea.

Well leached and bled he fumbled into New Orleans,
And  with one poker hand he won a pot of beans.
Crawled to Kentuckie to build an amusement park
But found in a smelly cave it was much, much too dark.

There is an idle rumor he's seeking a long row
To Poland, or Theleme he may want to go.
Not extinguished yet, be all aware
All BP preservationeers take care
We know he is active and still alive
Reports keep coming in from the archive.

][<en Follett