They smoke and model their berets while all
their code recurses infinitely and
will choke, will suffocate on out-of-memory

exceptions. Helplessly they laugh and smoke
and model their berets as if they no
more choose Computer Science than they choose to be

the French. But in the smoke are others who
can feel the system crashing: Lunatics
and Hippie Luddite Anarchists. They play as dark

matter, lurking in the cosmos, pulling
things with gravity. They beckon us from
space to lift berets off Frenchman coder noggins

leaving naked noggins, hearts and noggins,
un-Frenched French and code decoded, formless
lives released with secret mass and secret missions.