lew (11/10/82)
"The Listeners" with apologies to Walter De la Mare "Is there anybody there?" said the Hacker, Typing late at night; And his terminal in the silence displayed the characters; Of the network's latest fight. And a guard whisked down the hallway, Behind the Hacker's head: And he smote upon the keys again a second time; "Does anybody care?" he said. But no one descended to the Hacker; No mail from the bit-fringed net Made its way into his mailbox Which he hadn't checked just yet. But only a host of phantom listeners That dwelt in the USENET then Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight To that voice from the world of men: Stood thronging the faint impulses in the dark cables That go down to /dev/null, Hearkening in a mode encrypted and shaken By the lonely Hacker's call. And he felt in his heart their strangeness, Their stillness answering his flame, While his terminal glowed, lighting the dark room, As he played the latest game. For he suddenly smote on the keys, even Harder, and changed his mode: - "Tell them I flamed, and no one answered, That I ate my words," he crowed. Never the least stir made the listeners, Though every word he typed Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still net From the one man still all hyped: Aye, they heard his hand upon the keyboard, And his terminal going "beep" And how the silence surged softly backward, When he finally fell asleep. Lew Mammel, Jr. ihuxr!lew