Cycling Behind The Traces
Coded in the final hour
Was Turing's mournful plea
"while(true) { my corpse must nurse a flower }"
Before he went to C
In his diaries someone wrote
In binary notation
A differential asymptote
To serve as his oration
Read as he was laid to rest
In neatly-cornered box
From Margaret Thatecher's palimpsest
Scrubbed clean with ferrous rocks
And polished ten times three
In base of twenty-seven
As used by you and me
To speed his course to Heaven
St. Peter tried to check their math
With Turing's books of logs
Alas, the poor Archangel hath
Poured bismuth on the cogs:
Henceforth, all men of Earth, rejoice
In differential motion
In verity, you have no choice
If you'll be spared the ocean
| Contributors: | Roland, Apsley, asdf, Beefy. |
| Poem finished: | 4th January 2005 by Beefy. |