Today, I got your email,

And excitedly, I clicked it.

But you're not the one who sent it

Unless your career has shifted,

And these days you sell Cialis.

First the disappointment hits me,

Then I'm vexed, then violated;

This chameleon marauder,

Of my desktop sanctuary.

This preeminent pretender,

Who has pierced my inner circle.

And I know that it is no one

Not a soul, but just a program,

Not mankind but mechanism,

Aimless, blind, and automatic,

Mindless, viral, geist of spyware.

Then like email's chimed arrival,

An epiphany befalls me,

That this junk-mail world is better,

Than unwired life can measure,

And though I deny their substance,

Robots still believe I'm special.

To the robots, I am sexy. To the robots, I'm desired,

And so much, their pharmaceutical prosthetics seek to aid me.

To the robots I hold interest, i am popular, exciting,

Young, exotic, local women cannot wait to get to know me.

I am smart enough and young enough to earn a new diploma,

And my salary exceeds, so even princes seek assistance.

I have power, I can impact, make a difference, invoke changes,

I can save whole species from the deathly specter of extinction,

And refinance my existence without putting down one penny.

Could these messages be mailed,

By seraphs of electric heaven,

Who have punched through our dimension?

With the web as their conveyance?

And they wished me to feel better,

Overheard you thinking of me,

And spammed love you once intended,

But forgot to ever send.