So, What's Next?



Have you read the new poems lately?
Good news is, we can stop.
There's a trick, come to find out,
that worries about the revolutions of the world,
that reveals the great chasms of the world,
that subdues and reignites the passions of the world,
that lets the blind see the sunrises and smell the small dew of the world.
And the algorithms that can reassemble our minds
can spit out a poem.

Come to find out, we can be reduced to numbers and if/then statements
(tell me something I don't already know),
but I suppose that's something we already knew.
If we see the light through a butterfly's wing,
then we write.
If we see the darkness creeping along the ground
-both metaphorically, and literally, as in a moonrise-
then we write.
If we love, or lose, or cheer at a football game,
then we write.
It's as simple as that.
So, then, I have to ask:
What's next?
Now that we can finally rest
and let the poems write themselves,
what will you do with
all your free time?

-JR Simmang

I wrote this one in response to an article I read about how computers are now writing poetry. While the poems are complete slop, there's no telling what's going to happen in the future. If technology is allowed to succeed us, then what will we do indeed?

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