Bubbling dreams

April 14, Napowrimo 2026. Today, we are asked to write a poem that bridges (whether smoothly or not) the seeming divide between poetry and modern technological advances.

I’m not one for writing “about” poetry or even mentioning it in my work as it irks and leaves me with a sense of self-indulgence and a smattering of superiority – but that’s my challenge and no one else’s.

So, I’ll take today as one in several lessons of the month and hold my mental tongue.

In poetic seams of bubbling dreams,
AI is, by and by, surpassable.
Or so it seems.

No quill foresaw contrails to draw,
In the sky, flying by, improbable.
A Bardic flaw?

Medium and form, should not make the storm,
Disconnect, I reflect; impossible.
Words make earworms.