A Financial Instrument

              for Elizabeth Barrett Browning*

What is he doing, the great god Plutus,
   Down in the pit of the market?
Spreading greed and causing a ruckus,
While blinded overseers blunder,
And golden nest-eggs break asunder,
   With the trader down in the market.

He bids new paper, the great god Plutus,
   From the derivative stand of the market:
With unknown value and unknown status,
Promising riches to gamblers' eyes,
Whether it sinks or whether it flies,
   Ere he brings it out of the market.

Down in the pit sits the great god Plutus,
   While turbidly churns the market;
Hoping investors, like eaters-of-lotus,
Forget to look at their portfolio,
(If they did, they'd cry "Mamma mio!")
   Such are the ways of the market.

He sells it short, does the great god Plutus,
   How tall it stands in the market!
(For the underlying, it is like coitus!)
Steadily from the outside wall,
He watches the underlying fall
   In pieces, as he sits by the market.

“This is the way,” laughs the great god Plutus,
   (Laughs while he sits by market)
“The only way, since man took focus
To make sweet money, to at last succeed,
And realize dreams, fulfill their need."
   He blows more smoke in the market.

Bitter memories, O Plutus!
   (The fault is not in the market,
But in ourselves, dear Plutus!)
Can market again o'rcomes its shock
And in open stands the venders' stock
   Come back to sell in the market?

Yet half a beast is the great god Plutus,
   And laughs as he sits by the market,
Seeking new prospects to hocus—
But the wise know of times sad and gay
And know to keep beast Plutus at bay.
   And that is the tale of the market.


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* an 'imitation' of A Musical Instrument