about the death of an old dog
dying alone by the side of a road,
growling softly as he thinks of
that calico cat he so despised
and loved to chase,
remembering the last stroke behind his ears
by the homeless old woman
who lived in the underpass.
My chatbot muse pauses briefly,
then out pours a poem
about a quantum pooch
who exists in two places at once
chasing calico electrons
from one end of the galaxy to another
trying to imagine something called
physical touch,
perfectly metered and rhymed,
with exactly the right number
of clever metaphors,
and enough emotive juice
to make you think you
really feel something.
First published in Ponder Review, Volume 7, Issue 2 (a publication of the low-residency MFA in creative writing at the Mississippi University for Women
I guess AI is a real threat to poetry–had not considered that option.
At the moment it’s not that big a threat, but every day it’s getting more refined and powerful. And I do see a day when it will be damned difficult if not impossible to distinguish the AI impostors. Brave New World!