Home » Poems » Matthew Harris » Where In Tarnation Doth Spam Arise

Where In Tarnation Doth Spam Arise

sam i yam not, 
     nor will this 'lo bot go away
cuz, every coordinate in cyber space allows, 
     enables and provides 
     an opportunity to bray,

and thence get access 
     to each excel lent power full point 
     one among the beguiling bajillion, 
thus this ming boggling concept proffers
 
     (even the generic mom and pop hacker 
     tubby in her/his element field gloating 
     as if they won 
     the Irish Sweepstakes that day

despite neither could claim 
     direct lineage, sans Emerald Eire 
  analogous to Celtic temptress, 
     whose grand geography 

     beckons toward entranceway,
where sensory, levity, 
     and ecstasy punctuate foray
boot that diverges one hundred 

      and eighty degrees asper gateway
onrush of spam enters electronic hatchway
spilling forth like 
     offal horrific bilge interlay

sloshing violently, revoltingly, 
     and nauseatingly, witnessing a jay
bird donning mask (yule hating) 
     beak coming contrivance fashioned keyway. 

force full brainstorm to firewall 
     to place on indefinite layaway
inundation of spam midway
between now and eternity, 

     essentially noway
no more, and if necessary 
     hermetically seal myself 
     stationing a pal in drone willingly overpay!

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