Ode to Matrick Paier by Duncan Mitchell - Poetry Writing Competition 2024 1st Place

Ode to a non-specific Matrick Paier

Paier, oh Paier, where for art thou?

In lecture halls, with furrowed brow.

You guide us through code, through lines and loops,

Yet half of us sit, eyes closed, in groups.

Your monotone voice, so painfully bleak,

Puts us to sleep—oh, what a treat!

With Java so broken, and Web Services grim,

Our chances of passing seem painfully slim.

First year comes by, with hope in the air

Oh but your module, fills me with despair 

Matrick's dull lectures slow down our pace

Then a kitten assignment like a slap to the face

Language paradigms, in theory, so grand,

Yet they couldn't grasp a thing, no matter the plan.

Confusion so deep, they consider the blaze,

Arson seems easier than that fucking maze.

Principles, theories—Paier speaks with no spark,

His classes, a ghost town, attendance so stark.

Empty chairs fill the room, not a soul to be seen,

As Paier drones on, a monotonous machine.

Your emails are brief, terse, and cold,

Dashing our hopes, making us feel old.

"Stupid," you say with a Germanic flair,

Leaving us baffled, pulling out our hair.

So here's to the modules you run "so well",

Web Services too, a living hell.

You may be unhelpful, cold as lead,

But oh how you really do make the most of the worldwide web!