In the cloister it is said,
Pandemic hath struck reading dead,
States with threats doth fix the dread,
Third grade twice, for word's bread.

Starboard hath from victory sprung,
O' Darden's fight, in past was sung,
Now Bloomin' Brands, to bell hath rung,
In their game of wealthy fun.

Yields of Treasure, they doth rise,
Labor's might in numbers lies.
Stocks did fall, 'tis no surprise,
The S&P, Dow, Nasdaq: cries.

by Brother Arnulfus

a centaur