"Oh Krishna,
I sing to you of software --
of code in ancient languages that you write far better than I do.
(although you allowed me to think otherwise.)

I sing to you of hardware
on University Avenue -
of the unattached components that lie rusting
in the back of your car
alongside styrofoam containers harboring half eaten burritos.

I sing to you of the smell
of old leather in your front seat,
and the taste of the Big Gulp
that lies between your legs."

            I sing to you of software