The Rate Whisperer

The Fed Chair Who Wouldn’t Kneel

He stands quiet. Stone-faced. Blinking nervously.
Rate cuts on hold. DT fury on the rise.
Jay sips camomile. Not a flinch.
Banker by day. Gnawed chew toy at night.

Slash rates! The orange king roars.
Markets hiccup. Then feign calm.
Bonds shudder. Throbbing wingtips.

Across town. Gilded toilets flush.
Fed's new HQ stands tall.
Too tall! Budget hawks grumble.

$2.5 billion. Bought what exactly?
A palace? Or only economic folly.

The pols bluster. Markets watch.
Fire Powell! They shout defiantly.
For cause! What cause exactly?
Marble sinks? Cost overruns? Perhaps defiance.

The whisper game widens.
Can the King fire the Chair?
The Street still backs Jerome.
Wall Street. Main Street yawns.
High Street’s broke. Doesn’t care.

Jerome stares at data. Wiggly charts.
Dollar plays coy jazz.
Inflation flirts. Smirks like sin.
Jobless rate. Holds the line.
Trump’s tweets don’t.

Politics. Or just theater.
Senseless drama. Aching policy hangover.
Central banker’s last stand.
Or just another D.C. Tuesday.

No one knows the tune.
But the music keeps playing.