The Progammer Poem by Asher Proschansky

I'm just a Bronx boy
Though my story is seldom told
I've squandered my resistance
On a pocket full of mumbles
such are change controls
all lies and jest
Till a man programs for himself
and disregards the rest

lie li lie li li li li li li li li lo

Asking only programmers wages
I go looking for a job
I get no offers
just a come on
from the yentas on Lydig avenue
I do declare
There were times
I had some chicken soup there

Lie li lie li li li li li li li lo



I'm laying out my hexadecimal code
and wishing you were there
in the whirring of the server station
laying low
going to only those places
a demented programmer will go

lie li lie li li li li li li li li l

In the clearing stands a programmer
an attorney by his trade
who carries a reminder
of every overnight call
that woke him
till he cried out
in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving
But the poet still remains!