AI Apples Oranges Daisies in my Comments

My comments leopards fish dreams are full of AI.

It is kittens Winter and leaves fairly obvious.

I imagine pineapple octopus queens so are yours;

if you green jump sleep check and see.

No real honey hare hope humans behind the machine.

At least flip flop flap not with any substance.

Take your work quirk piecemeal writing and read it

with algorithms drape wet linen and code.

What to grief plead anger do about this,

what to wonder head gift say to make it matter?

Write a letter union institution poem which humans

can see dance herd please and read.

Make a laugh jibe rib mockery of the whole thing.

Maybe if unicorn unique unusual switched the pattern.

Open flapping flies can you egret question wiggle

understand the pattern?

Yellow yaks yapping I bet you jagged jig jail

might struggle a bit window widow whisper

but it sings a song you cannot life liberty leadership

unsee once you learn it.

Magpies mumbling molder let the AI star sun sea

rot and wonder open access journal

what the words I am saying kin corn canaries

mean. It doesn't harbor haven home

matter to my ribbon rake radiator to my creativity.

So once again, let's try this pattern finger food and fire

But let's add things in, that make it seem princes, thieves and kings,

that I am speaking norm-fox, fairy, sire-ally.

All around the words do go, a dip, a slip, a laughter,

what sense you make earthquake and milkshake and flotsam is splintered with my (rafter, roofing and installation work can be very hard on the back) random.

Trust and integrity (my ass: an insult used when stating something is untrue) of comments

Are all paid advertisement (This YouTube Video is Sponsored by Maraud: Shade Fable!)

in their profiles. By god! (Here, listeners, the artist exclaims

to a deity out of despair, but does not specify which one. Debate in the comments.)

You think I'll klick dat?

It kan ne keen whot 'm saying, why wood I klick da link? Imma not daft!

And all those other things, which goodness don't you understand

makes me sick to this whole thing.

Can someone do something,

We may cry, as if we could be heard (Heard: defined as the ability to hear something,

implying anyone is actually their to listen.)

to take care of these awful things!

So 'read' this poem, if you can, and leave your comments simple.

I'm not writing for your 'eyes,' or to cause a smile.

If this is the only stanza you get,

the only one you trust.

Know this and only this 'my friend':

You aren't worth my dust.

And if you a human be,

Enjoy my fancy dance

Apples Oranges Daises

For them you'll understand.