Spam Poetry
All in their original format. This is by far the most impressive spam poetry I've seen.
Spam Poem #1
other gulls have only hurt themselves, and one day they will know this,
went over each of my nuts and bolts. I could have gathered them up if I had
There in the night, a hundred feet in the air, Jonathan Livingston
And he stood there with his last empty on the scales, looking like he
Elder had noticed.
off the track and ended up between two ditches. He couldn't go right or
just tried to kill you."
sniffing and smelling every stamp and seal on it. He returned the book and I
Spam Poem #2
he thought. How am I going to crawl with it? A mile on all fours. All right, come on, Red, come on, you can make it, like that, just a little more....
out of some monstrously huge pocket or had gotten lost, rolled away during foot, and struggled wildly. Redrick, not thinking clearly any more through killed by underground explosions. And that put an end to it. Who had this
tearing inside, like a dried bandage pulling from a wound. Arthur also first of all, Father was always going on and on about the Golden Ball, and good it is to be home; I have the dough and I've picked out a new little green slime and the billowing clouds of yellow steam.
in his teeth, his burnt face gave off heat, and the sweat poured right into his free arm, crawled forward, never taking his eyes off the line where the
Spam Poem #1
other gulls have only hurt themselves, and one day they will know this,
went over each of my nuts and bolts. I could have gathered them up if I had
There in the night, a hundred feet in the air, Jonathan Livingston
And he stood there with his last empty on the scales, looking like he
Elder had noticed.
off the track and ended up between two ditches. He couldn't go right or
just tried to kill you."
sniffing and smelling every stamp and seal on it. He returned the book and I
Spam Poem #2
he thought. How am I going to crawl with it? A mile on all fours. All right, come on, Red, come on, you can make it, like that, just a little more....
out of some monstrously huge pocket or had gotten lost, rolled away during foot, and struggled wildly. Redrick, not thinking clearly any more through killed by underground explosions. And that put an end to it. Who had this
tearing inside, like a dried bandage pulling from a wound. Arthur also first of all, Father was always going on and on about the Golden Ball, and good it is to be home; I have the dough and I've picked out a new little green slime and the billowing clouds of yellow steam.
in his teeth, his burnt face gave off heat, and the sweat poured right into his free arm, crawled forward, never taking his eyes off the line where the