Reserved Bankers with their brains have traced
And fixed the point where OCR is placed;
Mind then their petty whims and back-bite talk
Of pinheads where they dance and walk
So Wheeler spins from hard-bound brain
A funny-money sky of sun or rain
At Number 1, he brings us joy or pain
In settling there on those who lose and gain
But Reddell his fine judgment now contests
And in his blog a percentage point protests;
That Wheeler does not say the least right thing,
On how long or short's a piece of string
The blogger so grows waspish, arch and odd
At once for Mammon and for God
Thus vexing both who gave him worth
By hedging bets twixt heaven, hell and earth
Said Chairman Carr: his point is weak
Not justifying a media leak
He fails the test of citizenship
In divulging so announcement's tip
And Bascand tasks: he's just aggrieved
So his opinion should be disbelieved -
More than that he's got things out of kilter
Seeing everything through victims' filter
Now Hannah opines: his latest posts
Are little more than rants and roasts
And that he's lost Reserve Bank sympathy
With his clashing $ symbols timpani -
His latest blogs have been emotional
With observations merely self-promotional:
So where and what's the point you ask
In arguing so on such a menial task?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem