Cutting Off Netscape's Air Supply, by Bill Gates

I know that you know I never said that, 

But I was the boss, it came back to me,

Is guilt a number, a program, a stat?

No--it's not a bug, it's a dying tree.


Was I a competitive piece of s-?

Sure. I look back at myself and cringe,

But I also look back and say, Hurray!  Yes!

I helped take the whole world beyond the fringe.


I was pretty damn good at writing code,

Just admit it: You're driving on my road.



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Toast to My Daughter and to Paul (Libra)

Does marry rhyme with a name or a mood? Neither.  I think that it rhymes with starry, It's a path that's both heavenly and lewd, To love, to make mistakes is to marry. Why is it matri- not patri- mony? Paul, here's a point relevant to you, The maternal root--it is not phony, To marry is to be a mother, too. Why do t's and d's often sound alike? We risk when we have betted or bedded, When we ride to our jobs on train or bike, To marry is to have desires whetted. To marry is to turn off one's damn brain, To embrace true joy instead of sham pain.
Read more

Appreciation (to Peter Gabel) (Cancer)

A movement is a kind of arena, It's a non-violent venue for struggle, You tussle like Spiderman and Sheena, You have to be both wizard and muggle. The grumpy people, they criticize you, "Your permanent leadership is unfair!" Confuting them's hard.  What they say's part true, You're a hierarch with a burden to bear. I was grumpy with you, and I was wrong, I benefited greatly from your works, From your conjoining a school with art's song, From your fusing thinking with friendship's perks. Peter, you were a true benefactor, You were the best kind of social actor.
Read more

To Our Future

To Our Future Sinead, I'm sorry that I wasn't there! I wanted to hear all about your move, Russell, I was hoping that I could share, The deets on my niece's library groove. We had a surprise party in Scotch Plains, The plan was to go from there to Philly, The storm was coming, there were cancelled trains, To stick to our plan seemed to us silly. So is it the end of the four of us? Are we a foursome that will never be? Should I delete these lines, not make a fuss? From our potentialities be free? I say no!  We might all have a future, My words are stitching, a hopeful suture.
Read more