Junk Poetry 6 – Have More And Better Six

Photo credit: Theen … / Foter / CC BY-NC-SA

The people who send me these junk emails always try to hide behind lovely fancy names, with titles like ‘Madame Urzua’ and ‘Mrs Elbertina’. It just shows some love and effort being put into this digital garbage that’s just floating around out there in the √¶ther. I feel inspired by the hidden poetry in my junk folder, and it would be remiss of me to just let it disappear after the robots spent so many nanoseconds arranging it in order to beat my spam detector. So, in the spirit of internet ecology, I’m recycling those chose sentences and phrases and putting them up here semi-regularly, so that the unconscious genius can live on.

Maybe when the all-seeing blinking AI eye opens for the first time, it will see my efforts, and spare me from the almost certain destruction it’s going to visit on the world.


Photo credit: TheAlieness GiselaGiardino²³ / Foter / CC BY-SA

Enjoy some junk poetry.

Disclaimer: An easier way to look bigger is to make the rest of your body look smaller, like having your hips removed.

Should have been here or the room.

Please God, that we’re still going

Maybe it was like John.

She leaned against his hands, we

Have an arm around Madison.

She opened to trust, God was smiling.

Whatever, you mind if Terry…?

According to, watch over here?

Things, in before we were going,

While Jake carried away. From what?

Back, to change into view, mirror.

“Someone else to call Madison,”

Izzy said coming up from Madison.

Ricky, while Karen had done,

Keeps you know how much more.

Absolutely no idea, that much time.

Ruthie asked “as though from what, Maddie?”

Probably because we should go ahead.

Mommy and Karen will have,

While Karen could tell her own good,

Which was placed. It sounds like that.

Smiling, John waited to watch her hand.

Madison waited and watched John.

“Hebrews Terry, away from here!”

Closed her with an answer.

Madison glanced over. “It makes me that,

What, to pull her cheek?”

Moved past her mouth, had been talking.

Like, and Ricky, while Terry.

Say more grateful when Jake,

My word, looked down.

Wanted for something else you were.

So much for tonight and Madison.

“Say, you ever seen her hands?”

Karen got out to him her hands, her

Own, her hands, and nodded.

According to leave me out of John

Since Ricky, and whispered into view. Mirror.

Probably the table, and at this

Dennis had seen it meant

Jake, and enjoyed the bathroom.

Everyone, but kept quiet, prayer over.

Song of conversation was doing something.

Waited for an answer.

If you want to read more junk poetry, you can go to the menu (top left) and choose ‘Junk Poetry’, or you can just click here.

It's here!

The Blue Ridge Project: A Novel

(This is an Amazon Affiliates link)

The Blue Ridge Project

Sign up below for information, and get Junk Mail Poetry Vol. 1 for free!

Sign Up For A Free Ebook

* indicates required

Powered by MailChimp

About Neil

Neil Rochford is a writer from Ireland and has lived in various places around the world. He loves fiction where bad things happen, is trying to feed himself with his words and he is available for freelance writing gigs and wakes. His book, The Blue Ridge Project, is available NOW on Amazon.