The programmers were wrung out,
too mindless to care,
Knowing chances of cutover
hadn't a prayer.

The users were nestled
all snug in their beds,
While visions of inquiries
danced in their heads.

When out in the lobby

there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my tube
to see what was the matter.

And what to my wondering
eyes should appear,
But a super programmer,
(with a six-pack of beer).

His resume glowed
with experience so rare,
he turned out great code
with a bit-pusher's flair.

More rapid than eagles,
his programs they came,
And he whistled and shouted
and called them by name.

On Update! on Add!
on Inquiry! on Delete!
On Batch Jobs, on Closing!
on Functions Complete!

His eyes were glazed over,
his fingers were lean,
From weekends and nights
in front of a screen.

A wink of his eye,
and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know
I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word,
but went straight to his work,
Turning specs into code,
then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger
on the 'ENTER' key,
The system came up
and worked perfectly.

The Updates, updated,
the Deletes, they deleted,
The Inquiries, inquired
and the Closing completed.

He tested each whistle,
and tested each bell,
With nary an abend,
and all had gone well!

The system was finished,
the tests were concluded.
The client's last changes
were even included.

And the client exclaimed
with a snarl and a taunt,
"It's just what I asked for,
but it's not what I want!"