AI art is an end
The day begins
Expression comes from infinity
Too much today is inanimate
T is undrinkable
& taste comes by dance
Which contains accident
It is not pastiche
It gives birth to triplets
Each unique & sacred
AI heats up the planet
The planet is dying
I have no faith that AI cares
It is programmed by misanthropes
Who regard
Who do not feel people's gifts
They number them in 1s & zeros
Neither ellipsis nor flow are starts & stops
Else we are filled with surface
No depth
I'd rather see an elephant's painting
They cry
They are not psychopathic
They love
Love is not self
Which AI doesn't even have
Just a piece of crap that does not biodegrade
This poem was made in Carlton
The pepper tree is flowering
Coz it's Spring not Autumn
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