Mrs. G. :: prev :: next :: It's like oil and water When the scattered give answers to the focused, The high-fliers directions to the fine-tuned She rattled off ten, maybe fifteen words As if her life depended on brevity He stood and stared, glassy eyed, Her response only grazed the surface He was looking for comprehension, A full history, He had already visited the weeds And knew how many there were And how many had not yet been categorised She was looking to get rid of him With as few words as possible, She does all the talking, Says, "Thanks..." And then turns to go, Don't allow questions, There's no need for clarity, Just get it done For him it needs to be done right, Once for all, Start with a complete picture, Then build on that strong foundation For her, done is good enough, If there's a problem we'll fix it later, Push the paper, Keep it moving, It's about how many we've done Not the quality of what we've done Oil and water, Warm air rising above cold, Opposing polar magnets Pushing to get around each other So how does anything get done? He bends, He studies, He learns, Without her institutional knowledge As always, he finds a way © 2008 (15 july) john r. chase
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