Saturday January 16th, 2016

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: recruits.

There was a crew of 14 of us doing inventory at the shop today. Working from 3 until 10 we managed to get a little over 70% of the store inventoried, which means we get to start at 8 tomorrow morning instead of 7. They open for business at noon and it's fully expected we'll be done before then.

It was generally all right. I had a few frustrating sections I had to inventory (belts are my new nemesis now), otherwise it was just keeping at it. With fairly regular breaks to ask questions or get help with things that weren't scanning properly. Time passed surprisingly quickly.

My feet are killing me though. I guess that'll happen after standing that long in the boots I was wearing. Definitely bringing my running shoes tomorrow.


They're a ragtag crew,
A mix of old and new;
They'll get the job done
(Mostly right, too - what fun!)


Greg said...

70% seems like a pretty good achievement for the inventorying, though with 14 of you working on it it sounds like it's a pretty big inventory! And I'm sure belts will eventually be easier to deal with ;-) Hopefully tomorrow will be a relatively quick day then, and you'll be able to come home and relax a little and tell Max stories of the strange and wonderful things that hide in the backs of cupboards and the bottoms of inventory boxes!
While I like your poem, that "mostly" at the end has me worried....

The captain's lying dying, in his gas-filled room,
The first mate's shot himself and purser's met his doom.
The recruits have got together and all are saying prayers
And something's coming slowly up the stairs....

Kyle said...

Greg - I really liked the dark imagery of this!

Mine; not great, but churned out quick:

We were stolen in the night
Ripped from our beds, no say in our plight
Given weapons and told to fight
Conscripted to combat the Blight.

Anonymous said...

I'm surprised and very happy with how this one turned out.


Come one, come all, and sign your name
In ink, in blood, sign your soul away.
For ours is a war to end all pains and
To save us, your life is the price we pay.

Marc said...

Greg - the belts were hanging loosely on little racks, four or five together in a little cluster. Every time I tried to get through one row, belts on the rows to either side would fall off. And on my first go I ended up counting wrong, or missed scanning one, so I had to do it all over again.

It's amazing how annoyed just typing that up still makes me :P

Oh dear, your poor recruits are in a spot of trouble, it would seem. I'm sure they'll find a way out of it though!

Kyle - I think you've managed to tell quite a nice little tale in the space of four lines, so nicely done! Could also be the start of a much longer story, should you feel inspired to delve further.

Ivy - well I'm not surprised, but I definitely agree with this one turning out nicely! I especially like the rhythm of your first two lines.