The creeping of the Spirit of the Times
And you crept up so ominously quiet Spirit of the Times that we couldn’t even
And you crept up so ominously quiet Spirit of the Times that we couldn’t even
and when the kind-hearted lab technician afflicted by disturbed dreams could no longer stand to
In turbulent, muddy times More than a compass You need an app To tell you
We’d better listen To our better angels As they urge us To quit suspending our
What if you looked up And there were no consoling Sky but a big tear
My two cents on the AI and writing debate… Advising AI against writing in
Time, the cocoon enveloping our lives Enmeshed in its horizon we fail To detect its
Recording the afterlife of dreams that I think are echoing Charon, the heat wave that
Keeping its perilous footing over the gravel and rubble in the halted gentrification project she
A diagonally propelled glistening a rippling-ending-on-the edge of land foaming white breaking/the water to rupture