A trader's lament, with apologies to Dr. Seuss:
You’re a mean one, Mr. Market
You really are a heel
It is your common practice
Bloody awful’s how we feel
You make the whole strasse trade like an imbecile!
You’re a monster, Mr. Market
My book’s a giant hole
I added dollar/ruble
Any my money you then stole, Mr. Market.
Why didn’t I trade with a
Czech, Turk, Hungarian or Pole?
You’re a vile one, Mr. Market
Lower oil’s good for stocks
But now energy high yield’s
Cracking underneath your shocks
Given the way you make me trade I feel
Dumb as a big ol’ box of rocks!
You’re a foul one, Mr. Market
You’re as nasty as a skunk.
My payroll buy of dollar/yen
Is now a bunch of junk,
The three words that best describe you
Are as follows, and I quote
You’re a rotter
You’re the king of stupid grinds
Buy and hold just seems much better
Than trying to use our minds
My book is an appalling dump heap
Overflowing with the most disgraceful
Assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable
Mushed and crushed in this unwind.
You nauseate me, Mr. Market
Central banks all had my back
ECB is nice and easy and
Abe’s selling market crack
Even if the Fed’s just “patient”
Spooz must rally hard
To get me on track!
Will the Market make away with everyone's holiday goodies, or can someone, anyone bring joy to the Whos of Whoville?
Tune in this afternoon to find out!