I’ve been playing with spam lately; I find the auto-translated stuff a great source of amusement and inspiration. The wonky syntax and near-psychedelic word juxtapositions light up all kinds of brain activity. Sometimes I take whole chunks and try to punctuate them so they make some kind of sense in English; other times I lift choice bits from here and there and combine them to see what happens. Here’s my favorite poem from this morning’s work:
Forests of Puget Sound
On a great treelined side freeway, a sanctioned handsome conical
specimen with simple roots and sagging, greygreen sharp needles
matured with regard to wet, detailed mud.
Always those already established Northwest mystics (to find
a reasonably sultry painting of them) have been a far more spectral
only no less helpful presence.
We simply come across your wife’s perception openly
once, many years after the scandal.
The Daily Compost 