Please enjoy my version of this classic poem. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
Twas the night before Taper, when all
through Morgan;s house
Not an investor was stirring, not even a bot.
The portfolios were hung by the brokers with care,
In hopes that St Yellen soon would be there.
The muppets were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Cap-Gains danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a 2014 nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature taper, and no tightening there.
With a little old Fed Chair, so smart and so glib,
I knew in a moment it must be St Yellen.
More rapid than algos her soothing words they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and said more of the same
"Now Morgan! now, BOFA! now, Stanley and St Street!
On, Deutsche! On Barings, ! on, Citi and Chase!
To the top of the market! to the top of the bubble!
Now buy away! buy away! buy away all!"
As dry powder that's there before the wild selloffs fly,
When they meet with an algo, mount to the sky.
So up to the market-top the bankers they flew,
With the sleigh full of POMO, St Yellen she knew.
And then, in a presser, I heard on the news
The prancing and pawing of each taper view.
As I admired my statement, and was patting my back,
Down went vol with a low volume attack.
She was dressed in PHD's, from her head to her foot,
But her ideas were all tarnished with Keynesian soot.
A bundle of QE she had flung on her back,
Not an investor was stirring, not even a bot.
The portfolios were hung by the brokers with care,
In hopes that St Yellen soon would be there.
The muppets were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Cap-Gains danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a 2014 nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature taper, and no tightening there.
With a little old Fed Chair, so smart and so glib,
I knew in a moment it must be St Yellen.
More rapid than algos her soothing words they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and said more of the same
"Now Morgan! now, BOFA! now, Stanley and St Street!
On, Deutsche! On Barings, ! on, Citi and Chase!
To the top of the market! to the top of the bubble!
Now buy away! buy away! buy away all!"
As dry powder that's there before the wild selloffs fly,
When they meet with an algo, mount to the sky.
So up to the market-top the bankers they flew,
With the sleigh full of POMO, St Yellen she knew.
And then, in a presser, I heard on the news
The prancing and pawing of each taper view.
As I admired my statement, and was patting my back,
Down went vol with a low volume attack.
She was dressed in PHD's, from her head to her foot,
But her ideas were all tarnished with Keynesian soot.
A bundle of QE she had flung on her back,
But she looked like a peddler, just
opening her pack.
Her white papers how they twinkled! her words were so merry!
Her programs like candy, so sweet and so sure!
Her white papers how they twinkled! her words were so merry!
Her programs like candy, so sweet and so sure!
Tapering not tightening doesn't
sound so scary,
Investors 'round the world were sure
there'd be more.
So confident and bright, a right
jolly old banker,
And I laughed when I saw her, in spite of myself!
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
And filled all the statements, and if you sold your'e a jerk.
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
And giving a nod, up the market it rose!
She sprang to her desk, to her bankers gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like HFT's on a missle.
And I laughed when I saw her, in spite of myself!
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
And filled all the statements, and if you sold your'e a jerk.
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
And giving a nod, up the market it rose!
She sprang to her desk, to her bankers gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like HFT's on a missle.
I heard her exclaim, ‘as they
hid out of sight,
"Happy trading to all, and to all a good-night!"
"Happy trading to all, and to all a good-night!"
Bob Kudla 2013
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