T.S. Eliot

Think this poem could EVER reach the pages of the Paris Review, the New Yorker or even the UO's Northwest Review? Probably one in a zillion chance. Chances that this poem could be posted on the author's blog and be read by millions? Already done.

An excerpt:

LOLcat Wasteland

By Corprew Reed

1. IM IN UR WASTELAND BURYING UR DEAD

april hates u, makes lilacs, u no can has. (1)
april in ur memoriez, making ur desire.
spring rain in ur dull rootzes.

earth in ur winter, covered in snow
can has potato. PO-TA-TO.
INVISIBLE SUMMER! RAININGZES!
im in ur hofgarden, drinking ur coffeez.

at archduke’s haus, invisible sled!
im in ur moutainz, holding on tight.
no can has cheezburger.
oral sex metaphors in ur poem.

in ur stones, whar r treez? (19)
whar r bushez?
ceiling cat cannot say.
im in redrock, hiding from sunz.
commin ze redrock.
im in ur handfull of dust,
showing ur fear.
redrock, redrock.

(continue reading here)

Via Critical Mass