Of Oils descent, a tale I tell,
In far-off lands, the prices quell,
With weakened strength, supply unveiled,
Demand in China wakes unveiled.

Alas, the Dollar, weak and worn,
Risks tumbling down, a fall forlorn,
Thine Powell speaks, yet hawks don't soar,
And market bears a single moor.

In Philippines, a story grand,
The Central Bank lets rates e'er stand,
Though fire inflates, its heat does wane,
Southeast, they find a stable reign.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur