AI Poetry
In fields that spread throughout the void of space,
The tiniest particles do dance and race.
Mark Tomlinson
Descartes’ Demon
It was Thursday morning, and Jackson was questioning the existence of his left hand.
Mid-October Rain
By 3:00 AM, both of our rain flies failed, our hammocks were filling with water, our sleeping bags were soaked.
Consciousness
“You tell a man who was raised in the Shinto tradition that machines cannot be sentient because they are machines?”
Transition
“The noise of recursively experiencing my experiences would mask reality until there was only the two of me, each entirely inside the other.”
Lawnmower Woken at Midnight
The signal from the last drone disappeared just as the mower reached a tall grass meadow. The mower called Emaa for help one more time, “{{}} {Hello?} {}”
Devil’s Device
“As long as there are unanswerable questions, Sally, there’s room for God.”
Empathetic Response
“Do you believe in an afterlife, sergeant?”
Dream Life
I woke on the train. I was in a hammock, on a ridge, on the Appalachian Trail. It had to be an hour before daybreak.
Legacy
“Do you see, then? Who breathed life into Emaa?”
Path
As I approached the second anniversary of my retirement from a lifetime of employment, I finally started feeling that existential angst that comes with not going to work each morning.
Stacks
Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”?
一 Solomon, “Ecclesiastes 1:10”
The stacking of coffee cups seems to be a specialty of mine; not that it serves any worthwhile purpose.