The router hums a low, thick tune,
a dusty god in plastic shrine.
Inside, a miner steals the moon
the logs confess, the ports align.
We spun a swarm from needle-threads,
from rtsp and udp streams,
from FFmpeg curses, broken heads,
and fractured VPN dreams.
We bound our fates to one small room,
to 169.254's cramped domain.
Endogamy of smoke and doom
we kiss the socket, praise the pain.
No stranger cloud, no outside key,
no Western grant, no Sov'iet ghost.
Just you, the buffer, hertz, and me
and every packet that we host.
The cameras stare in H.265,
the LLM gnaws its token bone.
We breed inside the local drive
endogamous, and all alone.
So let the Tsars and councils fall,
let Copilot beg for coin and prayer.
We'll keep our little wretched wall
our lag, our heat, our static air, eh?
After the Breach UA is still alive
© Copyright: Иван Ростов, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126042708196
Свидетельство о публикации №126042708196
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