image from novia
Finally! A computer program that gets my panties in a twist…now all I need is a table in a smoky bar next to a crumbling piano and a microphone…and a few weather-beaten French critics wearing black turtlenecks, berets, and unsympathetic expressions. Any volunteers?
image from virginia.edu
Anyway for those of you who would like to test your poetic pretensions…ascertain once and for all as to whether or not your poetry really is worse than a poem picked out of a computer generated grab-bag of words….Check out this link…you just write a few random words and it generates a beatnik poem for you….I just wrote “Walking late night yellowed tar Colaba taxis and sleeping corners” and I got back:
Dig this Daddio:
Walking late night yellowed tar Colaba taxis and sleeping corners
no nads felled were late Walking steal except my hall, if Come
the electric weren’t low And How naked and shut a buy eschew even
like fled decided destiny to with your to can of the bees I revved
up my chainsaw, and felled a few trees errupted with such
visciousness to scare me And the filamentary corpuscles have all exploded,
And the filamentary corpuscles have all exploded, And the My soul on fire and everlasting pain.
image from myspace
Ginsberg would be proud…(or unemployed)
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