As you’re probably all aware, sometimes spammers put strings of words in their spam emails to try to fool spamblockers. Today I got an especially odd one. I’ve stripped out all the HTML, about four or five random phrases that were not sentences, and the actual spam images that gave the message the spammer wanted to convey, and here is the email that resulted:
Prism combinate a centaur.
A scythe gives a pink slip to an asteroid.
A smelly short order cook borrows money from the deficit over a traffic light.
A radioactive chess board dances with the abstraction, but an eggplant toward the anomaly pours freezing cold water on the so-called photon.
Most people believe that an elusive food stamp gives lectures on morality to another dolphin for a judge, but they need to remember how lazily a short order cook prays.
Sometimes the flatulent asteroid trembles, but some ravishing polygon always is a big fan of another thoroughly snooty earring!
A cab driver reads a magazine, and a cloud formation sweeps the floor; however, the asteroid inside the buzzard accurately operates a small fruit stand with a mating ritual related to an eggplant.
The oil filter sells an asteroid to the squid.
If a salad dressing ostensibly knows the crane near the bartender, then a briar patch from the oil filter gets stinking drunk.
If the class action suit about a hydrogen atom ignores a mortician, then the vacuum cleaner hides.
A fairy is single-handledly muddy.
The asteroid has a change of heart about an unstable pine cone, or an eagerly South American bottle of beer finds subtle faults with an earring.
If the wheelbarrow plays pinochle with a paper napkin beyond the chess board, then an oil filter takes a coffee break.
A varigated short order cook operates a small fruit stand with a gratifying dolphin.
If a mitochondrial movie theater falls in love with a dirt-encrusted stovepipe, then an overwhelmingly mean-spirited insurance agent prays.
A diskette ridiculously assimilates a corporation around a microscope.
Any cocker spaniel can write a love letter to a photon around a ball bearing, but it takes a real polar bear to negotiate a prenuptial agreement with an outer diskette.
The dirt-encrusted football team knowingly sanitizes a dreamlike cloud formation.
The senator goes deep sea fishing with the short order cook.
I’m especially enamoured of the cocker spaniel which can “write a love letter to a photon around a ball bearing.” There does seem to be a somewhat interplanetary feel to this spam, with lots of asteroids, even a “flatulent asteroid”, no less. Presumably as good a method of propulsion as any.
That would be called a “Found Poem” in my poetry seminar back in the day, and would be published in a book of your poems.
Even at the time, I granted the value — no question at all — but wonder about it. It seems just slightly too easy. (Don’t kill me now please.)
As it’s highly unlikely that I will ever publish a book of poems, as I have never written any and probably won’t ever write any, I think that treating this as a “found” poem is OK. I promise not to find many poems in the future.
Oh, wow. That’s definitely one for the Anals of Spam Lit.