[Dedicated to all fellow-spinmeisters in the Development World]
The more one delves into the Project Cycle
The stronger its leek-like reek; as palatable
As being ensconced in a warm, softly lit room
Sippin’ spiced spirits while gazing out at the chilly gloom
And shedding copious tears for the shivering poor without
E’en while raising crystal glass to quivering snout…
Joyously do we journey through forests of Problem Trees
Skinny-dip in Expertise Pools, as we compute our Consultancy Fees
From Global Conferences to Regional Workshops we flit, by jet
To meet, in every Core Committee and Advisory Group, those we just met
Globetrotting arachnids, spinning a web of silken jargon and hype
In which to ensnare, and feed on, suckers of every type
We’ve fabricated a Cage of Fabrications, a Programmatic Framework
In which we fatten ourselves all the more, on those who understand less
Creativity drowned, in a swamp of glutinous verbosity
Spontaneity lost, in Missions of pompous piety
Where did we start this? Why did we at all?
When did we start this slide? Last Tuesday, or last year’s Fall?
It makes no difference: it doesn’t matter at all
It’s enough for us, great Omar’s words to recall…
“What without thinking, hither hurries whence?
And, mindlessly, whither hurries hence?
Oh! Another, another cup to drown
The memory of this impertinence!”
All we need do is keep churning out the gobbledygook
By the petabyte and ppt; throwing in a report or book
Outcomes and Outputs, Short-Term Extensions
Mid-Term Reviews, Course Corrections
Just fabricate those Indicators, by hook or by crook
And if some dare raise questions—cock them a snook!
5 thoughts on “Dark speculations on RFPs, Log Frames, and other profanities”
Ooh how I can relate!
Sent from my iPad
Oh Mani thanks, good one!
Words of verse bring no change
Is poverty alleviated by the stock exchange
Out is Dandi Satyagraha
Akrosh is in, dandy brouhaha
So grudge no being his daily spin
Stomach ka sawaal, be he a man or djin.
When Sun doth shine, if he makes hay,
Surely it follows, as the night the day.
So throw away your third umpire’s hat
Don your whites, go out to bat,
Let them bring on pace or spin
The match is fixed, its all win-win.
Thy words ring true, they’re sound, profound
Let’s gather pace on this Red Queen’s Race!