We’re not economists. We’re weathermen –
The best rewards
Go to those who most swiftly spot approaching storms.
Poring over balance sheets we go, often in vain,
In search of risk, excessive debts –
The first true signs of rain.
How quickly climates change! –
Streams of income
Run dry; these
Give rise in turn to thirsty herds,
Waves of redundancies.
Thousands of households are blown off course by gale-force leverage;
We sift figures for cause of this,
since detail’s where the devil is.
We see huge, proud companies stride out into the dawn
So assured of endless sun, they’re wearing shades and shorts;
Yet, against their better judgment,
They’re committing fraud
Since share prices, like empires,
Not only rise, but fall.
We are not economists,
So much as weathermen;
We forecast when the world might next be held in credit’s clench.
Or maybe we are fortune-tellers –
Of capital, not men –
We read the palms of markets,
In their worry-lines, find trends.
By Musa Okwonga