Musings, Verse perverse

Dark speculations on RFPs, Log Frames, and other profanities

[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

  1. 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.

    Jio!

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