Spitting on the Sausages of reality ([info]mr_squig) wrote,
@ 2007-08-29 15:04:00
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Current location:home
Current mood: amused
Current music:Rob Dougan
Entry tags:tickled

Spam poetry
Yay for spam.


What's that, I hear you say? Yay for the vilest thing to be on the internet (possibly with the exception of tubgirl.com and goatse.cx, of course)

Yar.. Turns out they're using random prose to slip past the spam sensors.. anyway, this came out quite poetically... Which was nice



People might see to be the opening
From which, thanks to symmetry,
Pierced by the mist that fades away,
and preening, dancing on the basepaths,
Over the chilly dale.
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
to try that, to hold a terrifying beast
shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
Chose to walk out of it, they'd have to pass
Against which we have been projected? What . . .
Of observation lying on the ground
Seized from creation by nonentity,
shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
Away from their profundity of surface.
That only you and I can know. Les deux
Set on that tomb in the eternal night;
Astonished that you have returned to go
And Mère Chose's square of world, even as they
Glimmering of light:




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