Poetry generator

Since The End

What curiosities does the pheasant contain?
How little we appreciate and how much it magnifies the epiphany of this computer simulation.
Cashmire and sanguine aunt,

Draw from it the whirlwinds of
sequence of its own signal.
Once there was a explosive uncle who
reconciled at parties, sitting in a tetrahedron, among forms.

Enchant on the rotten stumps that wait for you
prosecuting the browbeaten chairs, degrading the doors.
As if to congeal or chirp or filter.
All sweetness become egoes.

With the foreboding martyrs.