Will Grannis

'Twas the night before Fed-day, with debt piled high,
Not a hawk to be found, not a skeptic nearby.
The traders were nestled in carry so deep,
While visions of rate cuts pervaded their sleep.

The downward revisions we'd seen had been tough
(Though we'd known at the time that those numbers were fluff).
And Trump in his Trumpian way had made clear
The members should cut if they liked their career.

The balance sheet swollen, QT's ending near,
10 trillion in T-notes maturing this year!
And Powell, the Santa of Wall Street's delight,
Prepared his big sleigh for the easing that night.

He bundled up credit as though it were gold,
Though everyone knew it was paper he sold.
Each parcel was stamped with a slogan so loose:
"Too fragile to tighten, too big to reduce."

With tales of a landing as soft as a glove,
He hitched up his sleigh and he called out each dove:
"On Credit! On Bailout! Down Front-of-the-Curve!
On Risk-On! On FOMO! No rate of reserve!

"To the highs of the Nasdaq! The long end must fall!
Now cut away! cut away! cut away all!
As bubbles of air when you're drowning ascend,
Thus rose every market on Powell's pretend.

And then such a holler I heard on the floor!
The cheering of bulls who demanded still more.
I watched from the sidelines, half-sick with dismay:
The Fed's jolly driver kept cutting away.

He was dressed all in forecasts, from head to his shoe,
And his balance sheet glistened—well, swollen anew.
He bought up their debt and soon filled up his sack,
Making room as he handed out free-money crack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! His jaw, oh how tight!
His prose full of caveats, hedged left and right.
But the words that he spoke left no doubt in the pit
That the shorts should all cover (or be covered in shit).

He warned not of bubbles, or rising of prices
Or the future that comes from such Fed-put devices.
And pressing his finger aside of his nose,
He cheered on the markets, and up they all rose.

He sprang to his lectern, declared with a cheer,
"Inflation is conquered, no danger is near!"
But I sighed to myself as I turned out the light,
"Happy cuts to you all… but beware of the night."