You can’t just push a button

and make a poem pop up.

No  sweet and silly with A. I.

No “I spy

with my little eye”.

No world’s sexiest private eye,

Magnum, P. I.

No  reddening  your hair with dye

to appear more fly.

No threats to eat your words like pie.

Instead, write them in Pop Tart® dough,

bake, and sigh:

and when you lose the contest to A.I.

and have to eat your words,

you’ll have no need to cry.

 

Silly poet glutton.