Had the most unusual inspiration for the poem I attempted below - my spam box in my e-mail! Was reading a book by Kate Braestrup, Here if you need me, which is an account of how she deals with the loss of a loved one, her subsequent connection to her own spirituality, and her chosen career as a chaplain. It is a well written book - with lots of life lessons that one can understand, and in some instances perhaps relate to. A well recommended read. She herself mentioned dyslexic pornographers and true to form, I spent a couple of days scanning my spam mail just to see what types of spelling errors I could find. Decided to compile some into the ode below.
Being a really bad speller - even now! - I of course fully empathize, so no disrespect meant to persons who actually suffer from dyslexia.
Ode to a Dyslexic Pornographer
It's Tuesday morning and my in-box is full
No, not of uplifting e-mails but of your kind of bull.
For the umpteenth time I am being cajoled
To accept your offers which seem down right bold.
But even better I must confess
Is reading your spelling which is a down right mess!
I am not a hrony gril though admittedly I am in my prime,
And your offer for femal Vigara is definitely not sublime.
I don't want my man with an all nigt erction
Come to think of it do you subscribe to your own mediciation?
Your offer to let me see Brintey Speers in the nude
Is not in the least bit appealing - it's just plain rude
I don't need your help to satify my spouse bed needs easier
Frankly, could your offers get any cheesier?
Well I have spent enough of my morning looking at your spelling mistakes
That if nothing else should convince people you are a bunch of fakes.
So Sir or Madam, who ever you may be
Next time try using spell check - some browsers even have it for free!