Prosperity’s just a ticking clock,
with fickle click and predictable dock
on a borrowed pendulum that swings
until it busts with leveraged flings.
Speculators jumped in to make a hedge;
upon volatility’s predictable edge.
so that from the programmed algorithm
could precipitate pennies market-driven .
Their swaggering datas then drew a chart
much more precarious than modern art
as through the market’s ticks they climb,
condensing profit from space and time
As every surge then upward seeks
to surpass and exceed the previous peaks
and profits rise, both dollar and pound
while bulls rise up and bears bow down.
But something’s driven them off the rails;
twas the unforeseen fat tails
that wagged the bell curve’s deathly knell
and cast a trough that’s deep as hell.
Now there’s no joy in Dow, nor in the S&P;
no motivation in Detroit, nor surety in AIG.
‘cause from boom to bust, from tail to snout
the mighty market has oinked out.
And if in future tales they do deride
the two thousand eight-nine market slide
then let it be said among the wise
that the troubled bubble got down to knocked to size.
The thing had grown too big for its britches;
they had it all patched up in stitches.
It’s not about the dips and leaps,
but knowing what companies to keep.
So whether you like Walmart goods or Abercrombie’s
steer clear from fakes and propped-up zombies.
Do your homework. Make investments true.
And economy will revive for me and you.
Thanks for the donut. Go long.