Rod
I just received a bit of spam mail that was actually sorta interesting. It was the usual "throw in random text alongside an image ad" deal, but the text was kind of neat in a weird, almost poetic way.
The line between the outside and this room
Shadows keep piling up as surfaces
Silence, are in his hand-birds in a snare;
My keyhole blows a gale
And half-starved foxes shake and paw
And he is swathed in ever-petrified dread;
Beneath the snowflakes I notice façades
Homeward into the howling woods, although
He never even dreams, being sheer snow;
shortcake, waffles, berries and cream
To reach out into its own vanishing
XXI. Flying in the Arctic
And up there I cannot tell if it is still
Life, or only joy, that stands out
A pallid yellow lingers
on their own little seat cushions, wearing soft caps
Appear to lift up from the lake;
What can we know of whatever picture-plane
Astonished that you have returned to go
Neat, huh? Too bad it was found alongside an ad for boner pills.
The line between the outside and this room
Shadows keep piling up as surfaces
Silence, are in his hand-birds in a snare;
My keyhole blows a gale
And half-starved foxes shake and paw
And he is swathed in ever-petrified dread;
Beneath the snowflakes I notice façades
Homeward into the howling woods, although
He never even dreams, being sheer snow;
shortcake, waffles, berries and cream
To reach out into its own vanishing
XXI. Flying in the Arctic
And up there I cannot tell if it is still
Life, or only joy, that stands out
A pallid yellow lingers
on their own little seat cushions, wearing soft caps
Appear to lift up from the lake;
What can we know of whatever picture-plane
Astonished that you have returned to go
Neat, huh? Too bad it was found alongside an ad for boner pills.