In Peking's vast and buzzing square,
Shares of chariots spark and flare.
Record sales sing in the air,
Dreams of cheap rides, bound to ensnare.

Gold, in markets does play coy,
Flat and calm, no mere toy.
Inflation's spectre does not annoy,
Rates may dip, traders' joy.

Dollar steadfast, firm it holds,
Amidst the jobs report's folds.
Its fate in data tightly molds,
A tale that time alone unfolds.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur