This haiku generator generated some real crap based on my prior journal entries, but I like the haunting, urgent, unfinished train-of-thought quality of these ones. I did have to re-jig some of them to 5-7-5 and add punctuation or a new word here and there, but they sound sort of Joycean.
Progeny get to
See you in the house crazy
During essay time
Up at dawn after
My late night o’ typing and
So my judgment rots
I’ve whittled it down
From words to a dead end by
The fashion police
Day every day
And we decided to lie
Down and have a good —
Held a knife to the
Historic neighborhood of
Weston will not turn
Toronto: No, I
Don’t go out but at least I
Should be allowed to
I cannot lose I
Keep hoping praying that I and
My purse will make it
Through the palms and the
Pool rippling and he laughed
At me and said no
Those last three are really solid. There’s an eerie quality to them that’s quite engaging. I dig ’em.
Go computer-generated poetry! What do we need those pesky artists for, anyway? 😉
I’m not sure if I could have come up with a better image than that last one. Igch. And that was machine generated.