WHEN GOLD CROSSED THE LINE
I saw it this morning when it crossed the line,
1000 GOLD looked mighty fine.
Hardly a murmur was heard at CNBC,
as if Mark Haines had been stung by a bee.
Erin's mouth dropped just for a second,
until her banker boss started to beckon.
Then she clammed up like a true FED slave,
told her goldbug self to try to behave.
And across the floor of the New York exchange,
you could hear all the traders jingle their change,
not sure anymore if their fiat was real,
with a fear in their souls that GOLD was the deal.
And I saw a mighty spirit descend to the floor,
whispering to everyone that a thousand was the door
to higher and higher flights of true money,
to realms of reality, to days that were sunny.
ONE THOUSAND GOLD is a fact of our times,
it needs no hosannas, it needs no rhymes.
It stands by itself as the king of the ages,
desired by rulers, by clerks, and by sages.
I was there this morning when GOLD crossed the line.
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