Linux Poetry, submitted by AmorphousOne. I don't know what this is but I hate it.
With a Red Hat pulled down low 'gainst the wind,
Renegade battling the postmodern mind,
Rebel on the run, tipped my hat and grinned,
I'd saved those things their pride had left behind.
I'd seen poets drown in bureaucracy,
Know ye the free spirit's safer at sea.
I dreamed of a tall ship with stalwart sailors,
With a cause higher than the bottom line,
And left behind the consultant bailers,
To sail aboard a linux ship so fine.
With a Pentium hull, the Western Canon,
Oak planks of reason riveted with rhyme,
To serve the Great Books forever and anon,
Designed to voyage across all of time.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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