Presented unreformatted and unedited is this bizarre poem — or something — I received in the latest batch of spam to inundate my email box:
And so I gaze avidly
and the Splendid Splinter. For a few dreamy dollars,
Upon from the right by far trees, that white place
whose soft bristles graze the top-racks.
The road, but not far enough ahead
II. Quest and Conquest
Never does any motion, sound, or light
Only a whiter absence to my mind,
Green lilac buds appear that won’t survive
To pick up even the quickening of wind
Wind, sleet. The branches sway,
Dismal, endless plain—
Rest easy, parents of Liberal Studies majors, it looks like your freakish children are employable after all.