Mother Superior Marries a Millefeuille Muse

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

We do not have an image of her with

Her smile.  Perhaps this fact, sum zero fact,

Has driven her vast anchoress-scene myth.

Perhaps her smile was inward as an act

Of irony, her comment on the world

That trapped her like a gnome within her cave.

Stupidities of ignorance were swirled

Around her.  Editors refused to rave.

In fact they smoothed her poetry to pale

Blancmange while she was baking.  They preferred

The blankness of the bland, preferring stale,

And turned her poems into mellowed curd.

  She lived within eternity, inside

    Sardonic genius.  Brilliance was her bride.

The Fartificial Unintelligence called the Microsoft Bing image creater repeatedly failed to follow my very clear instructions.  Each time it tried yet again to correct its mistakes, it created yet another mistake.  Then the Bing Fartificial Unintelligence image creater just froze up while claiming, “”It’s coming together…”.  Of course I am not allowed to deal with a human being in this matter, although maybe the human would also be fartificially unintelligent.   Finally I bethought myself and approached Bing directly.  I asked it (not it image generator) to make the corrected image.  After three of four attempts Bing itself finally got it right.  Judge Bing for yourself.  You have been warned.