Luncheon Assent Authorization Drift

At luncheon they clapped for the plan,
And someone wrote “done” with a hand.
No motion. No sum.
Just supportive warm hum.
Then reimbursements came in like a band.

The guidance got blessedly blunt:
Don’t confuse civic warmth with a grant.
If they’re nodding mid-bite
With dry chicken in sight,
That is not legal consent over lunch.

Lionell, syrup-marked papers in tow,
Said applause is not money, although
It can help people cope
And inflate civic hope.
Just don’t call it authorization flow.

An auditory spike from the floor
Was logged as an opening door.
The ledger was fed
With the data instead,
Thus granting the budget for more.

They cheered at the luncheon, we know,
And the clerk made the budget just flow.
The form had a space,
So it went in that place,
And the funds have decided to go.

The applause at the table was loud,
Which clearly meant funds from the crowd.
The motion was heard
Without saying a word,
And the ledger is fiscally proud.

The noise in the room crossed the line
And threatened the monetary spine.
A smile from a guest
Is a fiscal unrest,
Which Lionell must firmly define.

The clerk had two fields side by side:
One for mood, one for what was applied.
So “the room loved the pitch”
Became budgetary switch,
And the ledger developed a stride.