To realize their grand object,
They drafted us for the project
Of placing codes in every book we own:
We cannot reap until we first have sown.
To sweeten up our stints,
They laid in stocks of mints
And candy bars for us to eat:
For every error found, a treat --
But just the satisfaction, if we find
The barcodes match the books: oh what a grind!
O barcode! we bow down to thee,
For we confess:
There's no way we'd obtain these free
Treats doing less.
So we will code each section,
Until the resurrection!
To stuff our faces, and escape the work
That normally we do,
We gladly will pursue
This new assignment that will let us shirk!
O wonder of technology! we praise
Your proffered treats -- though we'd prefer a raise.
[Author's note to the editor, SUL News Notes: Please note that [this] is a real, honest-to-God Pindaric ode, with strophe, antistrope and epode. The verse-forms used were lifted from an ode of Ben Jonson. I believe the only rule violated is that of seriousness. I realize that an ode composed of but a single triad was not the fashion, but I didn't think people would stomach four or more in the same vein.]
Originally published in SUL News Notes, September 18, 1992.
c 1992, 1995 Fleabonnet Press for the author.