How do you write a market parody of a poem whose meter is skewed, whose rhymes are clichéd, and whose underlying sentiments are utterly absurd? That was the challenge I faced with Arthur Chapman’s "Out Where The West Begins." The fact that framed copies of this awful verse have long hung in countless public offices West of Pittsburgh, however, made the challenge seem worth the effort. My market version of "Out Where The West Begins" is titled "Down Where Day Traders Play."
Down Where Day
Traders Play
Down where the deals are always a’simmer
Down where big fortunes perpetually shimmer
That’s where day traders play.
Down where the action’s a little quicker
Where hours are spent ‘mid flicker and clicker
Where the need to win seems a trifle sicker
That’s where day traders play.
Down where great hopes are forever dangled
Down where the dumb and the slow get mangled
That’s where day traders play.
Down where every new stock craze is hailed
Where security hucksters rarely get nailed
And those that are caught almost never get jailed
That’s where day traders play.
Down where the bulls race around over heated
Down where the bears always think they’ve been cheated
That’s where day traders play.
Down where the new is forever upwelling
Where the same old lies get endless retelling
And the reigning gods are buying and selling
That’s where day traders play.
******** |
