"The stars are threshed, and the souls are threshed from their husks."

Monday, December 25, 2006

No whatley no urania

foot, or in a troop of horse or dragoons?
N. B. Noncommissioned officers

You shall not complain for want of accounts
from Mr. Grevenkop, who will
confess, there is no
great variety in your present manner of life, yet
What is the common revenue
of the electorate,
one year with another?


The golden age of spam poetry
is well past us. I wish, two years ago,
that I had made a record of some of my favorites.
Someone, somewhere, has obviously
done this work-the internet being
what it is, and people, what they are,
but still, I wish
it had been me.

This is a more experimental period,
which is ok, but can a
classic age last only two years?

What next?

It's Christmas.
There may be more relevant posts to come.
We haven't opened our presents yet.
The ham is glazed.

It is nearly time. Horse-riding isn't
out of the question.


At 5:21 PM, Blogger sarah said...

Congratulations on your knives.

Here is a good spam poetry compendium:

And I've collected a number of favorites in my own blog during the past year. I'm sure this fine art form will not be lost.

Some koans for you:

If spam gets caught in a filter and no one is there to read it, does it make a poem? What is the sound of one spambot trapping?


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