BOILERROOM JONES, THE WHITE SHOE FAT CAT
(Bustopher Jones, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, TS Elliot)
WilliamBanzai7s Book of Banker Fat Cats
Boiler Room Jones is not skin and bones -
In fact, he's remarkably fat.
He doesn't haunt pubs - he has eight or nine country clubs,
For he's the quintessential crooked banker Fat Cat!
He's the Fat Cat we all greet as he walks down the Street!
In his fastidious old coat with the look of Rogers Peet
No hedge fund mousers have such well-cut trousers
Or such an impeccable back.
In the whole of lower Manhattan the smartest of names is
The name of this Brummell of crooked banker Fat Cats;
And we're all of us proud to be nodded or bowed to
By Boiler Room Jones in white spats!
His visits are occasional to the CFA Continuing Educational
and it is against the rules
For any one cat to belong both to that
And the Chicago School.
For a similar reason, when the con game is in season
He is found, on CNBC, but not PBS;
But he's frequently seen on the game at Four Seasons
Which is famous for serving swinging dick bankers and wannabe wimps.
In the season of fowl he takes his Boss o/u shot guns out
To go hunting on the grounds of his stately North Westchester country house;
And just before noon's not a moment too soon
To drop in for a drink at the local club room.
If he looks full of gloom then he'll lunch at the Tombs
On cabbage, rice and jailhouse grouse.
So, much in this way, passes Boiler Room Jones' day -
At one white shoe club or another he's found.
It can cause no surprise that under our eyes
He has grown unmistakably round.
He's a 250-five pounder, or I am a bounder,
And he's putting on weight every day:
But he's so well preserved because he's observed
All his life a routine, so he'll say.
And (to put it in rhyme) `I shall last out my jailhouse time'
Is the word of this stoutest of crooked banker Fat Cats.
It must and it shall be Spring at Church and Wall
While Boiler Room Jones wears white spats!