The New Earl (apologies to Emma Lazarus)

    By Ripper on Sat, 09/20/2008 - 7:46pm |
    Not like the Must-See TV trailer trash, With karmic limbs outstretched to right his wrong; Behind red ink-washed Wall Street firms stands strong A mighty banker with a plan, whose stash Is the taxpaying public's, and his cash Mother of Exhales. From his Fed Chair bong Curls smoke and mirrors; his magic hands belong In market glovies that twin ledgers frame. "Keep ancient lords, your stored-up wealth!" cries he With curling lips. "Give me your debts, your junk, Your huddled brokers yearning to trade free, The wretched refuse of your assets shrunk. Send these, your sub-prime home mortgages, to me, I'll stuff the lot inside my Uncle's trunk!"

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