A Prayer to Bill Gates

O ye who giveth Word to every town,

Who doth decide when Windows shutteth down,

Who taught thy servants how to interface

And lordeth over stars of Cyberspace:

We call to Thee, though Thou shalt not reply;

Let us not be the Apple of thine eye.

Smite all Nigerians with propositions,

The heretics’ unauthorized editions,

The bugs and viruses that blight our land,

Commands that only prophets understand,

And Vista’s demon spawn! Lord, hear our cries!

May e-mail not lament our penis size,

May all thine FAQ’s be clearly written,

And plagues of evil regulators smitten!

Show mercy for the lost of AOL—

Deliver them from their Time Warner Hell.

Bless sweet Melinda, mother of thine heirs!

O scourge of Satan’s programs, hear our prayers!

The author is a poet and translator who most recently published “Tibullus’ Elegies.”
Read more: Opinion poetry by Times readers