On a midnight, dark and dreary
As my eyes had gone all bleary
revising my c.v., so weary,
Then I heard a knocking knocking,
knocking on my chamber door
Lightning flash and peals of thunder
tore my peace of mind assunder
I stood and toward my door I blundered
toward the knocking at my door
shadows cast upon my floor
The door I opened, there to see
A Raven, in his finery
an ebon tenure committee
Come a’calling at my door
Knocking, cawing at my door
His eyes were black, my mood was blue
For his dark post-tenure review
Turned all my horses into glue
with sticky student eval scores
(It seems that they expected smores)
I told the Raven of my vigor
Maintaining academic rigor
and trying hard not to trigger
memories that open sores
and make the kids wander the moors
The Raven gave a caustic laugh
and showed me all his charts and graphs
with cuts in faculty and staff
The victory in culture wars
going to the well-paid whores
Who make the budgeting decisions.
My mind grew dark with tangled visions
“What of the education mission?”
I heard my quaking voice implore.
Quoth the raven: Nevermore.
— Orson Welk
Getting the Hang of Thursdays 