Remove Me From Your List

Spam. It stinks. Spam in my inbox. Spam on my blog.
WordPress. So depressed. Google stressed. Hackers.
Slackers. Bad foreign actors. Grumpy Cat phishing
schemes on big screen live streams. Cease and desist.
Unsubscribe me. Count me out. Remove me from your list.

Is this spam? No, it’s a note from Jeff Bezos.
Was my delivery guy nice? Like the postman, did he ring
twice? Package damaged? Bummer. Jeff can fix it.
Here, enter my Social Security number. Use both hands.
Not just the last four digits. Jeff, don’t share the size
of my underwear. Refrain from making fun of my Hanes.
Unsubscribe me. Count me out. Remove me from your list.

Spam. Snail mail. Escargot. That’s precious cargo.
How much is this gonna cost me, bro? Hey Snowden,
I’m no chump. Don’t document my dumps. Don’t slam
my poetry. Don’t mock my odes. Leave my epic haiku
sonnets alone. While you’re at it, untap my phone.
Unsubscribe me. Count me out. Remove me from your list.

Spam. It bytes. Clickbait and switch. Trojan horses
on porno sites. My eye pad WikiLeaks. Text a giant
techno geek. Some whiz kid in Belarus stole my name.
Has he no shame? He must be bored. Being me, I mean.
Unsubscribe me. Count me out. Remove me from your list.
The real me, I mean. Eating tacos in Chicago.
He’s never been to Springfield, let alone Minsk.