A Year of Poems – Day 315

I hope you know that poetry is bunk
Why read when machines can parse a phrase?
Why sing when we can code emotions cold?
We once wrote that the planets had a song,
but we can judge the frequency of stars.
There is little that we don’t comprehend.
We have nothing left to wash away with verse,
Except for maybe love but give us time,
We will soon have a formula for that.


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