And another thing

So Todd put me on to this site: Talk to Transformer

You type or paste in text, and "it" (a neural network, apparently) "completes" the text. Usually it gets cut off at a certain number of characters. Occasionally, it'll come to an apparent end.

It's crazy how good it is. It's actually a little scary.

It seems to recognize the difference between prose and poetry. Interestingly, it interpreted the first verse of a sonnet of mine as being part of a song. The content is... sometimes horrifyingly appropriate.

I fed it the first siz lines of this poem and here is what it came up with...


I step out into a rain-washed morning
cloth mask tucked in my pocket.

At quarter to seven the neighborhood is quiet.
First buds of the year on my rosebush.

Next door’s Dalmatian maybe died—
haven’t seen her in months, poor old thing.

We’re meeting at the pond where we once fished.

A line is runnin’ across its top.

Down below, the Feds are out.

Cops are everywhere.

Cars are being towed.

It’s funny that I can’t see them from my window.

The storm drains are clogged with muck and leaves and twigs.

The bodies have been picked up, and those of the kids have been loaded into vans.

I feel suddenly uneasy.

I’m shivering, my hands begin to shake, as if there were icy, frozen raindrops on them.

Can’t stop shaking.

The way I’


Sounds like a perfect summary of 2020, doesn't it? I suppose I could call this a found poem.

Books Available
The Day of My First Driving Lesson
Country Well-Known as an Old Nightmare's Stable
High-Voltage Lines
Knocking from Inside