Poetry Spam
As spammers work to get around email defense barriers, the actual contents of the spam pieces are becoming increasingly ridiculous and surreal. In what I hope will become a regular feature here at eightandfive, I present an oddly poetic piece of spam that made it past Gmail’s usually rigorous security (full disclosure: I did make a few minor formatting changes, just punctuation and line breaks):
I haven’t been in too many relationships.
When I’m in front I’m physically tired -
like standing for a long time on my tippy-toes.When we refreshed the scan tool software,
the screen showed all the errors triggered by the
Whether or not you choose to run a cat is between you and Johnny Law.What do you do with your free time?
Before you were a model what did you do?“A stiffer chassis setup will benefit
experienced drivers more than the typical novice,” said current RS-R S2000 drifter
and respected 4AG guru, Alex Pfeiffer.
Everyone here in Miami is talking about the Heat.Hell bent on wrangling every last horsepower out of their steeds, power mongers often run sans -
“Using solid pillow-ball joints creates a more predictable setup as far as the movement of the car,
but has potential for a rougher ride,” said Pfeiffer.I would have said your legs.
You would have said my legs what?! Don’t leave me hanging!
Monday, November 13 3:03 pm
The poet clearly, and unselfishly blends the styling of e.e. cummings with a smattering of Poe, Hugo (during his “lost” period) and mimics the long forgotten poems of Tweety Bird in the mid to late 1960s.
I find myself particulary moved by the follwing line: What do you do with your free time? / Before you were a model what did you do?
The author wants to convey a missed longing for love, yet he is putting the subject on a pedestal. Is the subject a model? Or were they simply beautiful in the author’s eyes? Is the author asking for the subject’s free time, or have they split and he wonders if the subject thinks of the author?
And you are right to point out the abrupt ending. It is like a knife through the entrails of a slaughtered whale in the winter wind of the North Atlantic.
Monday, November 13 3:20 pm
It’s entirely possible the entire poem is not directed to another person, but to a car. “Before you were a model[...]” leads directly into talk of “a stiffer chassis”, further emphasizing the sense of distance and tension between the writer and his/her car.
Monday, November 13 4:13 pm
I recently received some Shakespam…obviously computer-generated. I did minor editing to make it less painful to read:
“Going to give him an account of herself, when Prospero interrupted my dear master, said Ariel but give me leave to attend your ship heart, he believed her innocent and he now thought the words of the could I stay here, looking upon my dear mother. But are you sure, said Ursula, that Benedick loves Beatrice so farewel. Orlando, seeing him in this weak state, took his old servant might well have passed for magic but Rosalind would no longer trifle Silvia, and Valentine was entertaining Silvia with turning every thing Bassanio proving successful in his suit, Portia in a short time Shylock was going to take the money, when Portia again stopped him, But great events were happening at this time, of which Imogen knew an establishment of a hundred knights that this establishment was each other in cruelty to their old father who had been so good to it was to love the babe that milked her, but she would, while it was round on this youthful parcel of noble bachelors, and choose her round on this youthful parcel of noble bachelors, and choose her completely vanquished Katherine quickly adopted her husband’s opinion, they all journeyed on pleasantly together till they came to Baptista’s bewildered thoughts, by asking him how he got free from the officer Angelo.
And for this short respite of her brother’s life, and for this the duke himself. night your name should sound among the hills, and I would make Echo, certainly presents of far richer worth, as these pretended donors knew to her. Juliet, alarmed to hear a man’s voice in the garden, did not to her chamber, from the orchard in which he had heard her confession in mutual courtesies while so deadly had been their rage and enmitythe queen which Hamlet hearing, and verily thinking that it was the questioned Cassio of the cause. Cassio was now come to himself, the accept of the valiant unknown for a son-in-law, when he perceived his beauty is quite changed with this unprofitable woe. Come, give me your after a ten years absence, his wife and native country Ithaca. He thy hand in wedlock, only that thou mightest have him in thy power, to and row as fast as speed could carry them past that fatal shore. They up and down encouraging his men, one by one, giving them good words,less hospitable cliffs had afforded him.
And the of the river, as of the enchantress Circe, of Scylla, and the rest to which she left his upper garment behind him, a good warm mantle, to which I addressed himself to fight. But Ulysses, provoked to be engaged in so retreat, till fear itself made them valiant, and danger gave them eyes the point with his new relation, therefore he lifted me over theif we wanted to resume our visits to the grave, he would propose some brought up in her own poor cottage. Mrs. Withers was brought out into the ballroom there, with tears and I had seen her in her last illness and after trying to open it, and state of him and his mother in the wilderness. At the end of the to fill my little head with vanity, and I used to think I was so village, just to see how goodness thrived, as he used to say, but and some of them seemed to be grinning and distorting their features”
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