Algorithm maker, make me a match:
pick guy from cybernetic batch.
Algorithm, take a digital look
and find me a perfect catch.

Algorithm maker, please do not fail
to find a dude, who’s not from jail
and committed a major felony.
Such a person’s not for me.

I’d rather he’d be a scholar—
don’t wanna guy who has done vexed things.
Don’t, please, find someone whose choler
has prompted him to do many neck wrings!

Algorithm maker, make me a match—
don’t find one from the booby hatch
or one who will come and ransack my home
or harass me on my cell phone.

The coding, the coding
will make the match, it’s true.
Although you’re a schmuck,
I’m relying on you.
Could anything go wrong, in your view?

You assure me I’ll be happy
with the find that I’ve got.
“Forget HAL and all that—
it’s just a movie plot.”

But I have found this,
by algorithms applied:
I did a Web trawl
and took a look inside
of this word, and then I got a fright.
Fright!

First, I’ll provide the website;
click button, left or right,
then take a look at this sight;
it makes me uptight!

I see: álgos does evince
pain. Concerned, I do a scan
of algorithm’s etymological background,
and that calms my brainpan.

Algorithm maker says that it’s time—
the find’s a guy who’s in his “prime”
(the find’s a guy, loves numbers prime).
Algorithm maker, why does this man
look like a schmuck that I should spurn?
Making of matches has caused me to learn
that this ain’t my thing
Zoom I from doom
I come to find
that the made match
is you? But me you won’t catch!