Hello Pentium, my old friend,

I've come to talk with you again,
Because a hard drive slowly filling up,
The ports committed while I was sleeping,
And the unified diff that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of patching.

In restless dreams I built alone
Huge directories of snapshot packages,
'Neath the halo of a computer monitor,
I tourned my collar to the coke and tea
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of arriving mails
That split the screen
And touched the sound of emiclock.

And in the new INDEX I saw
A thousand ports, maybe more.
Ports fetching without checksumming,
Ports compiling without packaging,
Ports installing files that no other port ever uses
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of gzip.

``Committers,'' said I, ``You do not know
The cvs tree like a cancer grows.
Hear the warnings that I might teach you,
Take the portlint that itojun might reach you,''
But my packages, like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of wcarchive....

0 files changed, 0 insertions, 0 deletions