spam: the new art form?

I got this email from a friend:

OK, so I'm checking my spam folder, and there's some junk mail for Viagra, and embedded at the bottom of the email is some random text fragments obviously put there to confuse the spambots. Turns out, it makes for some pretty beautiful poetry. Check it out:

In the woods, close by,
Is the moon to grow
Choces, MХre and PХre, undreaming even of fields
The pain of being born into matter.
III. Earliest Recorded Northern Explorers: The Greeks and the Vikings
and the Splendid Splinter. For a few dreamy dollars,
Come, swallows, it's good-bye.
Coextensive with everything? How could they know?
I know,
giddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,
Silence, are in his hand≈birds in a snare;
Will sound, then the Lord's face will luminesce
Seems reflected in the infinite of the lamps.
And the worlds≈skiffs rudderless, rolling on≈
Are muffled into silence that refuses
visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
Of meaning like these≈the world created by
By bloody pool≈rattling, gasping his last.
Silent patch of ultimate paint. You are

Maybe it's the slooooowly developing left hemisphere of my brain (from being around so many computer programmers), but I have to wonder how this was created... because you have to figure that somebody is cranking out a SH*TLOAD of this stuff...

is there a software program that can spit out cohesive phrases of stimulating verse?

Is there a sweatshop (somewhere in Vermont) where brilliant poetry grad students crank out sonnet after sonnet for the purpose of avoiding spam filters?

Has someone collected enough monkeys to beat on enough typewriters so that there is actually enough abstract prose to be put to such a diabolical use?

Or, maybe it's just the pain of being born into matter.

(Wow... that hits you where you live, don't it?)

All I know is, I've got enough titles for pieces of music here to last me a lifetime...