Sestina

Sestina Byron the neuron at home with neuron Ada Tired and rewired from a brain wavy day The wannabe poet is writing a poem So Ada is aiding him with her algorithmic program And what’s the guy doing? Not another Sestina! Hey, this ain’t fair Provence, nor the legendary land of lute and roses. But he won’t listen. He’s smelling a rose. What’s it like to smell a rose, Ada? Or to write a sestina on a bright sunny day. Ada, I hope you made a miraculous program To feel the rose fragrance flow into the poem Why do we still write poems? Tell me when was it that the need for such nonsense arose We just need the latest poem-writing program How about it, Byron and Ada? The best pair of neurons in business today Can you lay me down the network to write a Sestina? N words. Cycle length n. When n equals six, that’s a Sestina. Mathematical fun in a poem Callooh! Callay! O frabjous day! Let’s paint red all of our roses! And give one to Adam, to Eve and to Ada, with tansies in tisanes, antigram to program. Warning! Wiring error! Bug in program! Byron to the rescue. Can he write a Sestina? Can he take over for Ada? Finding mellifluous words for a clunky form poem. To see in my prose a beautiful rose. Be gone, oh invisible worm! Turn nightmare to day! No one knows the hour or the day when humans will battle the satanic AI program when the beast has arisen from the lutes and the roses The great whore will sing a lustful Sextina. And God will kill her and her children in a beautiful poem Oh bring us neuronal wisdom, Byron and Ada! In the heyday of the troubadour’s sestina there were no programs for writing poems In those rosy olden days before Ada