Jenny on Holiday – Quicksand Heart

What could water fear … if not the

Smack of the rock, the

Call of the sun?

…To become the spit

between a fascist’s lips

…To cool a computer commanded

to imagine tits

Every AI prompt should have to start with “Dear Lord” — a reckoning for each request.

…Dear Lord, write me an ending to a poem that conveys the justice of a giant grizzly bear devouring every bootlicker mouth-first, then pissing on every malignant data center until we can hear the robins sing again in the stiff January breeze, but in seven syllables