This is the Server, waiting on station,
Silicone god of an e-mail nation,
Bearing you news of a baby boy,
Bringing you misery, bringing you joy —
Telling you auntie has taken to pottery,
Gloating your ex has won the lottery,
Jottings ethereal, letters venereal,
Packets attaching the oddest material,
Bleating that Katie has married a fool,
Reminding you “Man’ United rule!”
Enclosing a last demand from creditors,
Filing a blast to newspaper editors,
Begging the pardon of furious lovers,
Shopping for pillows and sofa covers,
Juggling schedules, checking arrivals,
Flattering bosses, flattening rivals,
Laden with rumours and odious jokes
Featuring zebras and artichokes...
Servant of presidents, servant of hacks,
Blinking and winking in towering stacks,
Serving up poetry, panic and porn,
Dishing the dirt from dusk til dawn,
Guarding the gospels of new messiahs,
Tracking the passage of forest fires,
Plotting an expedition to Everest,
Funding your local neighbourhood terrorist,
Bidding for first editions of Keats,
Cribbing your homework, booking your seats,
Checking if Daddy has taken his medicine,
Clinching the date of birth for Edison,
Gathering evidence, paying your taxes,
Ordering pizza and beer from Max’s,
Auctioning Fords and a red Mercedes,
(All of them owned by little old ladies),
Shooting the breeze and playing at Doom,
A long-legged fly in a steel-racked room...
The Server has crashed!
The Server is down!
The screens have dimmed in city and town,
The emperor stripped of his digital gown,
The babbling web is lame and halt,
Its pillars of Silicone ground to salt —
The Server is up!
The Server is back!
The techies have purged a hacker attack,
The natter and chatter is back on track,
The terminal drives have held their nerve,
The Server survives — and as you observe —
I serve! I serve!
I serve! I serve!