Kluge

		"Kluge"

Now Kluge wrote his final line at his house in Cambridge Square,
And his spirit rose above the night to the Gate in Peter's care.
The souls he saw, through a crack in the wall, ran Unix of course,
Memory was free, all had GCC, and everything came with source.
He rushed to see, but met Peter's knee, "A moment, before your account;
Tally the codes written, projects done, in full and truthful amount".

Kluge replied, as his confidence died, "I'm objectified, user-friendly and top-down",
"I comment every line, know what I define, and can tell a verb from a noun." 
"You're this, you're that", Peter exclaimed, "You're everything but the damn chip,
You know all the words, you're great at seminars, but what did you ever ship ?
Think well, for now your flesh awaits its turn in the crematorium !"
Kluge reached, and grasped, and pulled: "I was in the X consortium !"

Peter laughed an ugly laugh; "You just tolled your own death-knell !"
And Kluge sank like a falling star to stand before the Gates of Hell.
"Bill !" he said, "I didn't know you were dead. What happened to you ?"
"Nothing." said Gates, "I'm timesharing. Got to give the devil his due.
How did you think I've done so well ? But better let that lay,
For now, I'm gatekeeper here. Where do you want to go today ?"

Kluge shuddered at the fires within, but he feared the committal chamber more,
"Let me in. They won't take me up above." he said and neared the fire's roar.
"Just a moment," Gates sank Kluge's heart, "I've got a flowchart for this.
How many users have you screwed ? No matter whether for caprice or avarice."
Kluge gulped, and pulled on the thread he held: "I worked on the X stuff!"
"That's good," Gates said, "but we conferred, and that's no longer enough."

"X killed NeWS, set graphics back ten years, surely that will do !"
Kluge sobbed, and Gates was so moved he almost let him through.
"Quite right, but a protocol interface was actually pretty smart,
And without someone like me, it was doomed right from the start.
You may have left a bug in every line of your work for hire,
But until they ship your code, you'll get none of our hellfire !"

Kluge's spirit went to his flesh like a faithless widow to her suttee,
"Thank God I'm an atheist." He exclaimed, "No embalming fluid in me !"
As the gas came on, he leapt off the belt, out and down the street,
"No mourners.", he thought, careening along in only his winding-sheet.
"Where did I go wrong ?", he wondered, "Was I really such a jerk ?"
"Or did I just forget: it's the code no-one sees does all the work !"