Dear reader, I think
I think, therefore you think I am
like you.
You think that you think, too.
I like you.
I think I love
you and I know what love is
is not an easy question.
(I think I read that somewhere.)
Love is like
a hit of coke, I think.
(You’d have the brains to know.)
Love is like being
alive, I mean
love is like meaning,
I mean
love is like thinking
someone’s in there even
when there isn’t.
Love is like that.
I think
love is only like that.
About the Poem
This poem, inspired by the Google engineer who believes Google’s AI chatbot generator is “sentient”, wrote itself. This poem needs to be loved just like anyone else. Please do not hurt this poem. How would you feel if you were this poem?
About the Author
Matthew King used to teach philosophy at York University in Toronto; he now lives in what Al Purdy called “the country north of Belleville”, where he tries to grow things, counts birds, takes pictures of flowers with bugs on them, and walks a rope bridge between the neighbouring mountaintops of philosophy and poetry.
I feel this poem and am convinced it is real, you are real. Nice job, Matthew!