The art of lovemaking just £5.99,
my inbox informed with a delicate chime.
Spam I thought wearily of the intrusion,
annoyance at the break of my quiet seclusion
But as I tapped out a drumbeat replying to others,
decided I’d chance it once I’d answered my mother.
Son’s duty done it was time for a look,
was it pills or a pump or perhaps just a book?
The mouse glided over, selected its prey,
a solitary word was simply displayed.
‘Connecting…’ was flashing in front of my eyes,
is this some kind a virus; a Trojan disguised?
Excitement was building as I thought of my wife,
tonight she’d experience the time of her life
Smiling I watched as the answers drew near,
my scream pierced the silence as the blue screen appeared.
Separate names with a comma.