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Sleuth

6/22/2020 ☼ poems

nothing ever stopped
jamison from writing a
complicated algorithm.

as a kid he hacked into every
game console he had,
he got a refund from a
local restaurant who gave
him a shitty burger by
cracking their insecure
database,
when he was eighteen,
he even kissed mrs. geary,
(the computer class teacher
with blonde hair and one streak
of light blue highlights
running down her back),
after hijacking
her browser session and
redirecting all requests
to a love poem he
had written.

his team lead walked up to him
one tuesday and placed
on his desk a stack of
seventy-and-one-less pages
describing his assignment to write
a program to identify
whether an audio clip
was
or
was not
pornography.

in eighteen hours, team
lead had a working prototype
in his inbox ready to go through
for wednesday
morning standup.

they gave the program
an audio clip of
bach, and
it said:

not porn.

they gave the program
daniels, and
it said:

porn.

they gave the program
the emancipation proclamation, and
it said:

not porn,

they gave the program
texas, and
it said:

porn.

it’s one thing to write a
great algorithm, and
it’s another to hire
sam,
a horny college student
to sit in a dorm room and
listen to audio clips
drip
drip
drip
in
to his inbox and
out
of his headphones.