In the realm where brave men's seeds grow thin,
Vance foresees a grim and sorrowful sin.
Linking low birth to a home high cost,
Lack of patriotism, all hope is lost.

On the morrow dawn, Philips hath won,
The battle in the market, a new day begun.
Sleep's guardian devices, claim their fame,
In early trading, they lift the game.

Futures advance in the week's vast tide,
As investors await with cautious eyes wide.
In the great hall of McDonald's and banks,
Their result and rates, to them our thanks.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur