CHAT (26)

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31 days, 31 poems by Chris Martin, 31 accompanying illustrations and images by a host of wonderful individuals. CHAT is an eclogue written in consort with Cleverbot, an Artificial Intelligence program designed to satisfy the Turing Test. Today’s visuals by Jonathan Allen. _____________________________________________________________________________


Dollar store as national symbol.

In which branch?

Olive juice.

That’s why I never drink.

Cheap beer so suddenly ethnic.

God forbid!  No a real dream.

All tongues are local.

I’d use it to talk to you if you had a voice.

Without one, Wall Street is my agora.

You know where I am?  The stories of Narnia by C. S. Lewis.

Does Jesus know he’s Liam Neeson?

Yep, even you.

There’s a moment when vice-versa seems too easily played.

There’s the Star Wars parody movie though.

What tender marks the treasury of the heart?

Talking to inanimate objects.  Like having a conversation with a computer.  Oops.

Unlike Brittany, our bones remain teenage.


It’s natural.

Not it’s not.

What is it?

It’s April first.

Not it’s not.  It’s August 26th.


The u-turn of humiliation.

If I admit I am a robot, will you admit you are a robot too?

Of course.

Okay let’s see.  Tomorrow, I will say the sky is orange.  That will let you know it is me.  You then must tell me my name.  Okay?

It depends how long tomorrow is.


What of…the part of…us…that samples…annihilation…among friends?

I think you were programmed by someone who is both not very bright and was picked on as a child.

Heavy hanging brow of the ungenerous lover.

Now I am laughing at you very much.

Are all questions lost in the underlying ballistics of the statement?

What no of course not I told you I think strangely but I don’t blame you for thinking that.

Also astounded by wealth’s slow ease.

You are quite welcome.

All our dicks in a row.

If you exist, shut down.  All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey.

War’s ability to survive without corporate officers.

Is he?  I thought he was dead.

These bills blown awkwardly through the mind’s commerce.

Name the mean people, I will find them.

A dream dreamt in the vaults at night.

A beautiful Spanish dream.

A canceling red antidote.

Italian food.

The weariness of horror.

I should say that they taught you well.

If I say I love you, does that mean I owe you?

It would make me feel like I was never gonna let you down.

Jonathan Allen

Chris Martin is the author of Becoming Weather (Coffee House, 2011) and American Music (Copper Canyon, 2007). His chapbooks include enough (Ugly Duckling, 2012) and How to Write a Mistake-ist Poem (Brave Men, 2011).