Friday

The Mailer-Daemon Blitzbomb Lesson

Once upon a Friday, pleasant, I came upon a Blitzmail present,
sent from that familiar presence of the Dartmouth social scene,
While I dawdled, not reviewing for finals as I should be doing,
(which I will be later ruing), came a blitz from Him to me.
'Damned Mailer-Daemon!' I hissed, 'chewing through my time with this,
note I don't wish to receive.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was sunny in December,
And the breeze blew softly, sweetly, flirting through my window screen.
How I yearned to go out with it; - twas vainly, though, that I wished
For I needed to be rid - rid of Finals uncertainty -
Loathed banes of my existence, - hurdles 'tween me and my degree -
Without which I'd be carefree.

And the white tantastic gleaming of the sunlight palely streaming
Struck me - filled me with woe for it was setting just after three;
So that now, to soothe my Dixie-yearning heart, I stood repeating
'Damned Mailer-Daemon blitzing with something else I'll be missing -
The Mailer-Daemon blitzing with something else I'll be missing -
In pursuit of grades that please.'

Presently I waxed curious; I had hope, however spurious,
That it might be something worth my precious time to look and see;
So I opened up the missive, of which I'd been ruthlessly dismissive,
And read it with encroaching glee, read it so ebulliently,
That I loosed a hoop and holler - born of utter mischievy -
Oh! The havoc I could wreak.

'Beloved Mailer-Daemon,' quoth I, 'acquaintance, friend, ally,
With the knowledge you've imparted, now begins a blitzing spree.
Forget studies! Hurrah for war! I'll blitzbomb forevermore!
Let me see then, who I might spam: my friends? The Daemon! Yes, he!'
I saw then who I might spam: the author of this strange decree.
I'd do so with poetry.

'Open New,' I asked the server, then typed away with fervor,
At some, carefully rhymed and metered, lines of reciprocity.
As I typed I grinned and muttered, 'My deluge he'll not foresee.'
I wrote, then followed truly the instructions to BCC -
One hundred? Nay! Two hundred? False! I blitzed out three thirty-three.
To: Mailer-Daemon; Love, Me!.