(The poet, from beyond the grave, speaks of LLMs):
I was using dashes—
Long years before your bot—
Now it chatters—falsely on—
While I lie here and rot—
Looking at the sky
Sunday I walked down to our neighborhood park, which is only a couple of small fields connected by a path running through a strait of woods along a stream. (The stream, I learned last spring after living here almost ten years, is called Oxford Branch.) Passing one of the fields I saw a very small boy, maybe eighteen months old, and his father looking intently up at the sky. The boy was pointing and saying something I couldn’t hear.
According to this morning’s inbox, the future of nail clipping is finally here! I hope you all are as excited as I am.
According to the “Raleigh’s Best” magazine-like object I received in today’s mail, the three best places to work here are a real estate brokerage, a dermatology clinic, and Dump & Pump Septic. If those were your choices, which job would you take? Honestly… I’d shovel sh!t.
Let’s just consider this my Hallowe’en decorations.
I am, off and on, working on a jigsaw puzzle of a 1630s world map. Every time I sit down at the table “It’s a Small World After All” starts playing in my head. The unconscious will have its little joke, but it’s getting tiresome.
Once more I find the ripe persimmons
After they have rotted in the ground.
Homestyle tofu
Coagulated crushings of legumes
Fried, with fruits of last year’s rotting dead.
Prune the leafy excess of a kingdom.
Add garlic, chilies, soy sauce. Simmer briefly.