arises early to launder cash,
never takes a bath,
browses hedge fun clippings,
and, without onus on its bonuses,
Morphing in gilded parachute
draped with spreadsheet shreds,
in miasmic drafts The ETH
levitates above the bottom line,
too taxed to break bread
with those whose homes
sit humbled numbers.
With hidden interests offshore,
few of its accounts succumbed.
The ETH checks what’s on its plate.
Chomps stunned newlyweds
Phillip and Jian Torres-Chang.
Gulps the widow Platnik for dessert.
Then, stock responses:
dials a talk show host
who vilifies “this government’s
grip upon the free market,
despoiling our nation’s lifeblood.”
The ETH sniggers,
slurps fed suckers clean,
retracts slimy haunches in repose—