June 2002

The Grind of the Ancient Manager

(with apologies to Samuel Taylor Coleridge)

It is an ancient manager,
And he works from eight till late:
With his loss of hair and gormless stare
I envy not his fate.

This new recruit is greener than
A freshly budding shoot:
For his career he shapes his soul,
His sharp mind, resolute.

The elder clears his throat to draw
The focus of the lad
To wisdom long matured in myth,
In corporate slogans clad.

The new recruit trapped at his desk
Cannot choose but to hear;