In Boston Mass. did one young man
Who stated that his PhD:
With each sacred regression ran
From data gathered all by hand
Would show successfully
So twice five miles of hotel grounds
With young APs all gathered round;
And he made boastful claims of novel thrills
Where blossomed Table 12 and Figure B;
And here were methods ancient as the hills
Extended to help guide new policies.
But oh! That cheap hotel suite bedroom which granted
Space for many questions soon to be covered!
A savage place! Each query more pedantic
As e'er beneath fluorescent lights was haunted
By Fieckers wailing for his demon-lover!
And from the loveseat, with ceaseless turmoil seething
A quiet prof in khaki pants starts reading,
A mighty fountain momently was forced!
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
said "But the parallel assumption fails
And Table 3 controls for no fat tails!"
And 'mid these many faults it came untethered
And showed up momently the once-thought clever;
Five minutes denouncing all the lazy notions
Through page and graph the full destruction ran
Than reached the data collected by hand
And showed its novelty was only token;
And 'mid this tumult the student heard from far
Ancestral voices as if at a bar!
The shadow of the hopes for pleasure
Tenure-track and with high pay
Now had a new success measure
Private sector, perhaps by May
It was a miracle one cannot doubt!
From many interviews comes no flyout!
A damsel with a great CV
In a vision once I saw
She wrote that When It Rains It "Poors"
And matched many propens'ty scores
Striking credibility.
Could I revive within me
Her Milkshake and her song
To fix a fiecked market 'twould win me,
That with papers proud and strong
I would write again next year!
That Harvard job! That tenured life!
But all who heard would see him there
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His haunting smile like Pedo Bear!
No applicant escapes his vice!
For he on candidates hath fed,
And drunk CHAMPAIGN in Paradise!