Spampoesi.

Nogle gange kan der gemme sig guldklumper de mystiske steder. Sad og stenede over mine spam-mails, og faldt over følgende digt.

The ID was gone but the money was still there, the bills - mostly fifties - crisp and fresh.

Paul dived for it, not caring if the cloud meant death instead of unconsciousness this time. Then she seemed to get herself under some kind of control and she went on in a calmer voice.

Ja, der er skønhed i mange af livets små øjeblikke. Hvad ikke kampen mod spamfiltrene kan føre med sig :)