Lines, Written on the Recollection of
Lisa's Arrival at Dendritics
by Frederick Miller
Twelve months have passed since Lisa came to us,
Twelve months of anger, billingsgate, and fuss.
Social eruption, horror, and unrest,
Consciousness-raising is what she does the best.
Deep in the bowels of Waltham we foregathered,
Nor were we by efficient scale production bothered,
But rather turned our seething minds to talk,
and shunned depression, nor allowed ourselves to sulk.
Literature and politics were our themes,
Odes and epics we wrote by reams and reams,
Searched out each twinkling thought whence it gleamed,
Accepted no idea only for what it seemed;
Allowing no expert witness e'er to spoil it,
We'd dump our writings in the toilet.
For we were Dendritics' modern thinkers,
Even if Steve and Miriam thought us stinkers.
Never could be found such intellectual power
(unless it resided in the Watch Factory sewer)
And all downstairs with joy drank in the heady liquor,
While metrological snobs upstairs could only snicker.
Farewell then, muses, nymphs, and satyrs,
'Tis full-well time to close this paper.
Returning to mundane tasks of scale production,
We relive the ecstasy of poetic seduction.
Lisa later had this reminiscence to
add:
Re-typing that poem in, I remembered that the real twinkle came with the
next two lines after "dump our writings in the toilet." Fred used to revel
in Mim's exasperation with him...
Also, do you have any of his "little" notes--remember, the teeny tiny notes
he'd leave around, like "Hi Tim"? Those were so funny. And what ever
happened to the fort, as in "hold the fort"?
