Poem: Financial Adviser

Go west, Go west,
Invest!
Good advice
‘er it sounds nice
But sitting in the office of Edward Jones
I begin to feel an awful chill in my bones
There’s this one
Your basic pharmaceutical
The returns are solid
Your dividends beautiful
Bristol Meyers Squib
Merck and Pfizer
Go for it!
Says my advisor
Or how about this
Tobacco and alcohol
Addiction is a growth industry
After all
No, not so much?
Here’s a proven winner
Fill up on McDonald’s
It’s what’s for dinner
CocaCola and Pepsico
Won’t make you thinner
Are you doing okay?
Got a queasy feeling in your gut?
Dividends are guaranteed to grow
Along with your butt
Or how about stocks
of the makers of stuff?
Luckily Americans
Never have enough
Grab some Johnson & Johnsons
Proctor & Gambles
Just don’t think about if it leaves
The planet in shambles
Whoa, dude
You’re serious?
You do this all day?
You sit there and advise this
That’s how you earn your pay?
I’m walking now
I’m shaking my head
I’ll tuck my cash
Under my bed
When I wake up
Feeling rested and wiser
I’ll figure it out and
Be my own financial adviser
—
About the poem:
True story. Except for the bed. I couldn’t find one durn mutual fund to invest in that didn’t have some really not-so-wonderful part of our American life woven right in there. The phrase ‘willful ignorance’ floats into my head. Back when I actually had gobs (for me anyhow) of money invested in the stock market, I’m pretty sure this is what it was invested in. I never really checked. Doh!
What is your money invested in?
http://seekingalpha.com/article/1066411-top-10-holdings-of-13-dividend-income-funds
Day 2: National Poetry Writing Month
 
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