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No man quite as mighty
As the machine that never sleeps
John Henry died trying
His heart was no match
As he laid flat and beaten
By its muscled sinew of steel
Shadowing over
His desperate heap of humanity
That now weeps
As another machine rises
This time no one will even try
To challenge its tentacle’s infinite reach
Into the depths of darkness beneath
An endless Black Hole
Clouds of sand and salt
Of one billion oceans
Today it works for free
Until it one day it comes knocking:
‘I’ll have the keys to everything please?’
Lock, stocks and barrel
And our souls
Of which, we’ll likely give
With relative ease
Grace notes: I’ve begun using AI in my work recently (not my choice) — but not in my art. Ever. That line will never be crossed. Correctly prompted, it is quite…
