A little explanation may be in order. This poem began as a rant at the fact that it seems like too many of the “like” notifications I get on soundcloud are actually porn spammers. It’s both disheartening and wildly baffling. But there is hope of more even for the worst of us, even rage poets.

This poem goes out to all you porn spammers:
Who think of women as wham-bam-thank-you-ma’amers,
You likers who peddle personas without manners —
Offering pouty-lipped profile picks in provocative pa-jammers.
Do you really care or even give-a-dammers
For those upon whom you prey?

I wish you did care about those upon whom you prey:
Who are living just tying to make it through another day
Who want to be honest, do just what they say,
But are trapped in colorless lives–unless the color is grey,
Who live lives barren and stark.

And the pleasure you proffer, compared to truth? It is stark,
But you don’t care about those whom you target and mark.
Your liking and linking and sharing on a lark
Is the chum offering baiting for a predators shark
Whom you’ll torture, tear, and shred,

And so your bots move through websites and shred,
Putting out links trying to capture any unwary fred,
But there’s nothing here, Nothing, no commenter’s thread
I have nothing of my own — only His wine and bread —
The one exposed, shamed, by his friends left for dead.

But if you’re into that kind of shameful revulsion,
A religion of the dying and the Edenic expulsion,
You’re welcome to stay, sit, query your questions,
Make your peace, pour it out, in full-free confession.
Together we’ll admit our powerlessness in profession
And be welcomed back in embrace and hope and resurrection.