34th? Annual Christmas pome

The Days Before Christmas

By Michael O’Neill (with apologies to Clement C Moore)


It was just days before Christmas

When all across the land

Most markets were churning

But it wasn’t so grand.

Oil bulls have been hung

By their thumbs with great care

In hopes Chairman Powell

Soon would be there

Some traders were long,

Others were playing for spreads

While visions of Dollar signs

Danced in their heads

Trump in a kerchief

Had just taken a seat

To clean out his bowels

And send out a Tweet

When down at the Fed

There rose such a clatter

Trump sprang from his seat

To see what was the matter

Away to the television

He raced like a flash

While pulling up his pants

And risking a rash

The sound was quite crisp

The video was clear

Mr Powell oozed class,

A picture of calm it would appear

He said rates are going higher

But not often or quick

Markets were ecstatic,

They thought he was St Nick

Trump tweeted “he listened,

The Fed knows who’s the boss”

Global stock markets rallied

They avoided the “death cross”

Mr Powell left the stage

And faded from sight

While wishing to all

Merry Christmas and Good Night


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