In the bleak midsummer, markets gave a groan,
Sovereign yields were soaring, shares sank like a stone,
Debt had risen, debt on debt, deh-eh-et on debt,
In the bleak midsummer, very very wet.
Greek debt, banks do not want it, nor the ECB;
Real money shall flee away, Moody's, S&P.
In the bleak midsummer, adding to the mess,
What better way to make things worse — a test of banking stress.
Banks and central bankers may have gathered there;
Merkel and Tremonti poisoning the air;
But the hedge funds only, in their shorting bliss,
Worshipped widening spreads and the debt crisis.
What can I give Greece, poor as I am?
If I were a banker, I would give a damn,
If I were a Wise Man, I would kick the can,
Yet what I can I give it: give my bonds back as part of a distressed debt tender and thank my lucky stars I've got out of that mess.
(With apologies to Christina Rosetti)