Spam Poetry

Teresa Neilsen Hayden and her readers have supplied what I believe to be the world's largest collection of spam composed in the style of the Famous Poets and classic poetic forms. Here’s a villanelle for your reading pleasure, composed by Dave Luckett:

To god I swear, it's all quite real:
My son's in stir. I've large amounts
What he has stolen. You can steal
As well as us, so here's the deal:
Just specify your bank accounts.
To god I swear, it's all quite real –
The late Abacha had a feel
For dosh. The oil in flowing founts
What he has stolen! You can steal,
As he did. Slippery as eel,
Was he; now renders his accounts
To god. I swear, it's all quite real –
It's thirty million, under seal,
But if I move, I must renounce
What he has stolen! You can steal
It. Hear, oh hear, my sad appeal:
Just email me your bank accounts.
To god I swear, it's all quite real:
What he has stolen, you can steal.

And then there's this entry by Josh Jasper:

this is the song
of miriam abacha
the spammer

miriam is a widower
of some vizeer or wazoo
in darkest africa
and she claims
that her son
had absconded with
thirty large
after her old man
got sent to sing sing

that was a long time ago
and one must not be
surprised if miriam
has forgotten some of her
more regal manners

archy

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