Spam Poetry
I just got a spam email that featured this lovely little modern poem right after an ad for a mortgage quote:
1) "Dahlia over cashier" is a striking phrase. Not to mention "hand for bullfrog."
2) One can only imagine the travails of poor Albert, who was so forlorn that he was comforted by a mere pocket. Perhaps future poems will reveal the source of his unease.
3) Haven't we all cursed towards recliners? No wonder the imagery is so powerful at this moment. That said, sofas and chandeliers are clearly even more exasperating, and they should be added to the list here.
4) Some might suggest that the momentum of the first four sentences should be continued into a swirling climax, not dissipated in a phrase of 5 seemingly unrelated words. This is wrong. The true genius of the poet is shining through here: He refuses to be bound by trifling rules of grammar and syntax. Instead, he casts all caution to the wind in warning us of avoiding Michael Moore's pseudo-documentaries, which depend more on intuition than on reportorial honesty, and are presented to an occidental society that craves something that appeals to their partisan prejudices.
When tomato beyond is lovely, chain saw near confess taxidermist near. Now and then, cloud formation living with throw at spider around. If dahlia over cashier reach an understanding with hand for bullfrog, then guardian angel related to beams with joy. Albert, although somewhat soothed by pocket related to and curse toward recliner. occident craven reportorial intuit documentaryA few thoughts occur:
1) "Dahlia over cashier" is a striking phrase. Not to mention "hand for bullfrog."
2) One can only imagine the travails of poor Albert, who was so forlorn that he was comforted by a mere pocket. Perhaps future poems will reveal the source of his unease.
3) Haven't we all cursed towards recliners? No wonder the imagery is so powerful at this moment. That said, sofas and chandeliers are clearly even more exasperating, and they should be added to the list here.
4) Some might suggest that the momentum of the first four sentences should be continued into a swirling climax, not dissipated in a phrase of 5 seemingly unrelated words. This is wrong. The true genius of the poet is shining through here: He refuses to be bound by trifling rules of grammar and syntax. Instead, he casts all caution to the wind in warning us of avoiding Michael Moore's pseudo-documentaries, which depend more on intuition than on reportorial honesty, and are presented to an occidental society that craves something that appeals to their partisan prejudices.
posted by Stuart Buck at
11:22 AM
1 Comments:
Ahh, this is not unlike the Free Association Nonsense Poetry we used to sit around and compose with our mutual friend, eh? Absolutely ridiculously delightful.
Lil sis.
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