What art if any? No, it’s not possible,
from a statistical concurrence and concordance of words
however clever, from the library of books scattered
at random on the floor: the Internet.
Large language models pile up words
like Legos: that plastic thing it’s not a bird.
No algorithmic prayer makes the golem
sing or dance or draw: Soul is more
than mathematics and logic can declaim
or the Greeks would have nailed it to the wall long ago.
A-I-a-i-no
About Me
Mark Folse is a provincial diarist and aspiring minor poet from New Orleans. His past blogging adventures included the Katina/Federal Flood blog wetbankguide on blogspot.com which David Simon told NY Magazine was one of three blogs that helped inform Treme, and Toulouse Street–Odd Bits of Life in New Orleans, which once outranked the Doobie Brothers on Google Search. His work has appeared in The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, The New Delta Review, Metazen, New Laurel Review, Ellipsis, What We Know: New Orleans as Home, Please Forward, The Maple Leaf Rag IV, and A Howling in the Wires (which he co-edited).
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Well Bottom Blues 
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