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Wednesday, February 13, 2008

 

Spam Poetry of the Day: Faulkner Edition

Today's spam poem is a little bit Faulkner, a little bit Yeats

Hoi,


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The sheath o' 't, an' a muckler ane still i' the regular
patrons. She told him whom he might trust a fishhook manufacturer,
for care had been taken look at his head by th fire an see
how it looks. 'saw him about towndon't know him personally
awfully of the beautiful and his he had in particular attached,
and who is so devotedly attached to a blow that turned his
helmet from off his face, along the cliffs. They had a little
talk together, horse, the youth who stood before arthur
struck my father of the fact he flew at once into a violent
i will do so gladly, said geraint. And enid was he left
the churchyard and returned to the school, what will they
do with her then?' nobody was able smile blossomed into
a fullfledged seg. You obviously.

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