Poetry in my inbox.

I know, spam-verse is nothing new, but it still strikes me as an amazing accident of our internet culture, when I receive random text generated poetry, unlooked-for, in my daily email - and it reads well.  Some John Ashbery wanna-be, human or not,  isn't sure if they want to sell me Cialis or bless me with the product of their muse.  Ray Bradbury could/should write a kick-ass short story about a spambot with pretensions of being Walt Whitman. Here is the poem I received today.

baptizement baptizement

Deep waters were not always as merry and frolicsome mingling
their cries with homage and wondering how then hast thou
been able to possess my heart? Dhananjaya and Adhiratha's
son, so also he that unbuttoned his waistcoat, as if to
relieve some proslavery party a disproportionate power in
the immortality and that those Rishis, held in universal
do not, therefore, think that there is any other get up.
Oh, said Macleod simply, I wanted you in health, and
Bhurisravas, and Satyasandha, the felicity of heaven. Thou
art nirvana (or that helion megethos echein euros podos
anthropeiou, to his years, be saluted). Listen, ye kings of alarm, 

the horse cleared it in a bucking leap. No,
I am afraid, and he broke out into the supreme.

I ask you, do our spam filters threaten the future of poetry?