Spam Poetry by "Loraine Howe"

Against which we have been projected? What . . .
As if your absence now concluded long ago.
Absurdly, my eyes can only see the arc
That only you and I can know. Les deux
and preening, dancing on the basepaths,
trainer flips young alligators over on their backs, Life, or only joy, that stands out As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light, Looms in the air, deliberate and slow, In the woods, close by, to try that, to hold a terrifying beast Yes. The obvious Late February, and the air's so balmy The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape, Deep in the fog that quenches every ray, I. Arctic Scenery XVIII. The Northeast and Northwest Passages Toward . . . that seems to be the whispered question And off the white smoke swims
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First in a series of works by the finest poets of today, presenting their works in randomly generated spam emails.