‘I’ll come and foreclose, get your car and your clothes,
Singin’ I’m jolly banker am I.’ –Woody Guthrie
The odds are long, the threat is huge,
And dark clouds litter the horizon
While yesterday’s red meat turns bad.
The smiling Shell Answer Man
Is nowhere to be found, my friend,
And lonely Mister Clean, singing
“Shrimp boats is a-comin
Their sails are in sight
Shrimp boats is a-comin
There’s dancin’ tonight,”
Cannot clean up this oily mess.
Each action has its consequence,
And we must account for all this shit
When financial doom stares us down.
So what would Jamie Dimon do?
You bet your ass: He’d bank on you.
Coe Review 