Written by me, a human
little box box
full of memories
spinning, electron magical
little box box
full of power
spinning, us all at ourselves
little box box
full of sex
spinning, generations are missing
little box box
full of statues
spinning, we are statues at it
little box box
full of work
spinning, crying in our costumes
little box box
full of box box
spinning, spinning, spinning
Written by Perplexity LLM
Prompt: “You are a human writing about technology poetically. Use this poem as a starting place and write your version of it. {Copies exact poem}”
Love the tone—kind of eerie, recursive, almost like a machine dreaming. I’ll keep that rhythm and expand the imagery a bit.
:::writing
little box box
warm with ghosts
humming, a cathedral of whispers
little box box
full of faces
scrolling, we forget which one is ours
little box box
full of hands
tapping, reaching through glass that never breaks
little box box
full of hunger
refreshing, the next thing almost enough
little box box
full of gods
buffering, belief in high resolution
little box box
full of time
looping, yesterday dressed as now
little box box
full of sleep
glowing, we dream without closing our eyes
little box box
full of noise
learning, the shape of our silence
little box box
full of selves
mirroring, copies that outlive the original
little box box
full of nothing
spinning, and still we gather around it
little box box
full of box box
spinning, spinning, spinning
:::
April 22, 2026
arden briar smith