A PhD Prompt
There are many constituting factors in the land.
Not all is government.
Our U.S Constitution is an orderly directive for
government comportment; its functionaries – if
orderly – originate from the other constituting factors.
Those among us who engineer the country’s manifold
constitutionings are the constitutioneers,
and here are their yarns.
A former taxi driver spins this yarn from his days working a mid-size airport.
His yarn casts a seasoned cabbie who schools a few drivers on the use of time.
The Hole Story
Hurry up and wait senior cabbie confirms
Such occupation of airport taxi set;
A fare minded pursuit in output management,
Timely enabler for rushins in busyness.
Meter on through honkin’ performance,
Gainful payout for prompt output;
Yet none done till comeback run,
To queue up properlike as cabs in waiting.
At ease long waits find seating ‘neath concourse,
Time on hand unavoidable;
Midst excuse, jest, and fare fiction
Our elder farmer-turned cabbie expands:
“Get a lotta hay in here!”
Add in: “when I was a kid;”
Let’s now indulge the timeworn for the time being;
Proceed stock story of dead horse burial.
One hot summer day when dead draft horse
Remains befall one hired hand’s undertaking,
Must hitch team to drag offed steed downfield,
So unearth last rest in holesome closure.
Unready for rigor of sweaty shoveling,
Hurried hired hand twice missed measure:
(a) Draft horse went high brow, long -legged,
(b) Waiting horseflesh ready goes rigor mortis.
Too quickly the dig seemed good enough,
Edgy grunt dares massive descent;
But noble beast be-hooves with grave dissent
Reposed on backside thus legs upstiffed.
Input achieved but for top-level groundwork,
But horseplay wholly proved undeeply;
Draft horse long legs yet the remains
Above the earth with us the living.
Hotter, hurried hireling deep in overtime
Brooded upon ordained extra chore;
A plot adjustment could redeem one misfit,
And fail-safe executory settling.
Elder cabbie recalls a sneaking curiosity:
Bow saw unseasonably fetched far afield;
The winter’s firewood already laid in;
A young boy eagle-eyes ways to spy.
So to modify mortified horse legs
By four sure cuts plus extra horse hide,
Granting separate burial and cover-up feat;
Hands down! A cut & run as a whole.
Waiters horselaughed ‘bout outcome at hand;
A good laugh soothes many trials of time;
But while drivers’ one-uppings lingered
This young cabbie fared reflective.
Might workman ignore lone steed misdeed,
Never to unearth a muddled memory?
But some fall prey to handwringing reproach,
Since times bypast are lost to wonder.
Time and again many do admonish:
‘Do it right the first time.’
These the should-have-done experts;
Their life’s holestory well-hid they hope.
Meter runs on the whole of it fair or not;
Shudadunn remains one heartless accuser;
Workmanship time-tested on the one hand;
On the other hand Timekeeper loves mercy.
A rushin could give pause for hand-in-hand Enabler:
“I will instruct you and teach you
In the way which you should go;
I will counsel you with my eye upon you.”
(Psalm 32:8)
A Fix-it Guy (repairman) spins a yarn of rulebreaking and lawmaking, noting that he does well when stuff gets broken.
The Yule of Law*
Once upon a time of childhood competition
Happens harmless bee of school age spelldown;
Marks well done winner over losers;
Letter right for a spell and keep standing,
Spin off literal, in a word: downed!
My 7th grader in with city-wide best spellsters,
(And I among city-wide parents of smart kids)
Letterly qualified, in so many words,
Middle schoolers plus one spelltacular 5th grader,
And my child”s name spelled wrong on roster.
M.C. welcomes, congratulates, reviews;
One bee spoken rule, the law of the letter:
Proceed to spell the word with no starting over
For preferred bee standing on point;
Sloppy spellers slow up spelldowns.
In the rounds my gifted child performed in step,
Short 5th grader on stool likewise stepped up;
City-wide admiration for lone 5th grader,
An achiever of notable stature
Competing equally among the bigs.
Smoothly into a new round, 5th grader’s call,
Eager to the stool, his face forthright,
Grown-up readiness to accept his word;
“Kilometer,” M.C. droned point blank;
No sweat! 5th grader measures up.
“Kilometer,” boy repeated; confident pause;
“C,” boy blurted! Then he stopped.
City-wide audience, breath lost, waited;
Shoulders sagging, he turns toward M.C.:
“I guess I can’t go on,” boy did enforce.
Yes M.C. passed sentence on the ill letterate,
To the point, blurter be downed.
“C’mon” countenanced we city-wides,
“He knows kilometer, he’s the youngest.”
While spelldowned sobbed quietly on mom’s lap.
After a spell or two my gifted child lost standing,
So I pondered a youngster’s place system-wide;
Rule of law falls simply upon the 5th grade,
Too big to fail reserved for paygrade higher;
Grownsters step the nuanced way.
System bigs who step in it presume privilege;
Measurely standoffish, as a rule;
Bending law your way lawyer way,
A ‘Move On” stonewalling bee spins tv-wide;
Blurtie poly-ticks reset, beside the point.
Integrity spells enforcement through hurt
If law is a welcome writ within,
While onlookers wonder the want of spin
Say? ‘Nice guys finish last.’
Truth is: ‘Bad guys don’t finish!’
My fix-it vantage point stands to reason:
With the breaks fix-it guy’s bee standing:
Rounds of breaking & fixing is status quo,
(That’s Latin for the fix we’re in)
One payment does, inDEED, fit the fix.
Lockstep lords brew brokenness deniers,
Who reimagine better bee lettering:
Theirs a curious campaign of say-it guys,
Knowing knowsters in the know, y’know;
Uncalled stand-ins rival fix-it flow.
Behold: vote-buying for law-making long-standing:
Glut of fixes step up come election time;
Point of order! Passing of laws would fix in deeds?
Are there no donors downing faux fix spells?
Let the off-point confess, “I guess I can’t go on.?
The rulier we go the somelawly it gets;
Many wrights of law write too many,
Rites of accusing rule law-wide;
Then lotsalaw suits much mongering,
And wordplay spells happy talking climate-wide.
*Yule is one name of the winter solstice festival and originally meant: ‘a time of happy talking.’