Posts about Consultifying poetry


January 4th, 2010

I rewrote Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Raven” to make it more relevent for the modern workaholic.

Inspired by the great Edgar Allen Poe – see his poetry here

Once upon a weekend dreary, while I worked on, weak and weary
Over many a dull and complex spreadsheet all due in the day before
While I panicked, hands a flapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping – rapping at my hotel door
“Tis but room service” I muttered, “taping at my hotel door,
Only this and nothing more”

Ah distinctly I remember, that I could just not find an answer
As my hotel cups and teapot were cast upon the wooden floor,
You could say that I dread the morrow, Yes, my time was all but borrowed
And I could not ease the horror – horror that I must do more
For no matter how I’m working I must always do some more-
Promotionless for evermore

Presently my drinks grew stronger, and my measures ever longer
Until I couldn’t stop myself, from falling to the floor
And that fact is I was slacking, my keyboard was no longer tapping
Just then laundry came a rapping – rapping at my hotel door.
I didn’t think my legs would work to walk me to the door,
So I lay there and nothing more.

Then into the bathroom turning, my mouth and throat within me burning,
Soon again I heard a rapping somewhat louder than before
“Surely,” said I, “that’s a housemaid at the front door annex;
“I can’t let them see the mess and all the vomit on the floor
“Let my guts be still a moment and this girl ignore”
So I lay there and nothing more

Open here they flung the shutter, and with many a wretch and shudder,
In here stepped the manager with his evil look of yore.
Not in the least permissive was he, nor understanding my reasoning,
Said they’d send the cleaning bill to an address I’d used before,
And threw me on the street and I was banned for evermore
Cast me out and nothing more.

I Must go Down to the Office

December 27th, 2009

I rewrote John Mansfield’s “Sea Fever” because the original doesn’t talk as much about office life.

Inspired by the great John Masefield.

I must go down to the office again, to the lonely desk and the files
All I ask is some chocolate and a coffee to get me by
Through the emails and the phone-calls and my nervous hands a’ shaking
And work through ’til I’m blue in the face and the grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the office again and finish aligning a slide
My spread-sheet refuses to work and I’m about to die
All I ask is a quiet day without my client crying
And finish up a background check to see we’re all complying.

I must go down to the office again, to the wild consulting life
And the long hours and the projects and running to get your flight
All I ask is a good hotel where I can run for cover
And a double gin on my lunch-break when the conference call is over.

Let me Die a Consultants Death

December 27th, 2009

I rewrote Roger McGough’s “Let me Die a Youngman’s Death” to reflect the current pressures the may shorten the average consultants lifespan.

Inspired by the great Roger McGough

Let me die a consultants death
Not a clean and in-between the sheets
A civil servants death,
Not an “on the ‘dole”
Peaceful unemployment death.

When I’m 33
And just made manager
May I be blown up at dawn
When a terrorist hijacks
The first flight of the day.

Or when I’m 41
And in my lair-
Just got my own office and swivel chair
May some rival consultants
With clever USB keys burst in
Kill me and steal my laptop.

Or when I’m 54
And banned from nightclubs
May my fourth husband
Catching me in bed checking my email
And fearing for his sex life
Kill me with my own PDA
and sell his story to the tabloids.

Let me die a consultants death
Not a secretary’s tiptoe in
Or city bankers overspending death
Not a housewife with her ironing done,
“Well she liked to stay at home” death.