Our handyman is not ancient but he still deserves a rhyme.
For this is the story of a handyman who is running out of time.
It is not his fault when you consider the recessionary aspects.
After staff cuts, he's the lone man servicing this hundred unit complex.
Our architectural wonder was built in the 1970s.
Now things fall apart, especially the amenities.
So while he works on one project he gets calls on his walkie talkie:
"Can you come to Unit 26 where the toilet is balky?"
"I'm installing a microwave and I can't find the stud."
"Sorry, but 26 is experiencing a flood."
In the kitchen installing our new microwave,
he excuses himself, there's a toilet to save.
"I'll be back in a few." Then he runs out the door.
"Don't touch anything it could fall on the floor."
So there's my dilemma as can be clearly seen.
One sneeze and our new microwave is smashed to smithereens.
Patiently I await the handyman's return
while trying my best to appear unconcerned.
On the Science Channel they are explaining gravity,
which is what's working against the microwave and me.
I next watch a PBS film on the Bolshoi,
and have time left over to read the complete works of Tolstoy.
I was starting on Proust when there was a knock at the door.
"Remember me, I'm the handyman, I was here once before."
He didn't seem to be talking about reincarnation,
so I figured he was back for the microwave installation.
And he spent a full minute studying the precarious appliance
then left to get a washer while I went back to science.
The universe is aging the grave scientist said:
"It's only a matter of time before the sun will be dead."
I'm sorry to learn of earth's inevitable doom,
but my real fear is I won't get to use the new microwave if the handyman doesn't come back soon.
-- Rich Seeley
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