Even Spam (A Lament)

Even spam would make Graham Pronk grateful,
Or at least, less hateful.
Even spam would bring him round
And bring his zero comments down.
So, come on - send him your subscriptions,
And make them good.
He wants ads for Viagra
He wants the wood.
Bring your lottery notifications,
He'll see it as a celebration.
Send your spambots, leave them here,
He won't delete them, let's be clear.
And send him tips on making money
He'll probably even find them funny,
Leave him links to timeshare flats
Built in the middle of Iraq.
Send your clutter to the mailbox,
Graham Pronk will be your robot.
You can even send a virus,
It's not like Graham's going to fire us.
He doesn't need the recognition,
He just craves spammish inquisition.
Graham doesn't have a filter,
That would knock him from his kilter.
He just files works from man to man,
Even spam.