The poem is a short, harsh sketch of one man, called the "king of the trolls." The speaker doesn't hide their contempt. He is a "backward bastard," and the odd image that he "married his troll hands" suggests he has bound himself to grabbing, clutching, and taking, as if those hands are his true partner in life.
The speaker then turns to his heart, where there is "no part of a rose," meaning nothing gentle, beautiful, or loving. What fills the space instead is "business business business," a repeated phrase that sounds like a chant or a machine stuck on a loop. The final line, "low as a glob," makes him seem not only mean but shapeless and sticky, hardly human at all.
The mood is bitter and mocking, almost like a curse spat out in a few breaths. The short lines and blunt sounds add to that feeling, so the poem lands like a string of insults aimed at someone who values money over everything tender.