Conjure - Rae Armantrout Wesleyan Poetry Series

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an intelligent

      agent

      and then prevent it

      from destroying this world?

      “Content monitoring

      that required the AI’s

      intentional states

      to be transparent

      might not be feasible

      for all architectures.”

      A long green straw

      stuck in the ground

      with two ears (leaves)

      protruding

      on either side

      at intervals

      What we meant

      by “listening stations”

      and when we began

      to mean this.

      Perhaps its goal would be

      to have “thoughts”

      pass through its “head”

      so it could record them.

      “Preparedness is critical.”

      “Kiss all hope goodbye.”

      “A friend wants you to like it.”

      LIKE

      Small white lights

      twined around white

      dead sticks

      under a glass dome

      flash—

      like getting an idea

      was the idea.

      Like thinking

      I want to fall asleep,

      each night coming so soon

      after the last,

      and hosting a string

      of tedious dreams

      like trying to get back

      to my office.

      I head

      back in

      to clear it

      out,

      my head

      PHILOSOPHICAL INVESTIGATIONS

      1

      What are your interests?

      I’m interested in the way

      interest

      creates finitude.

      Differently translated,

      “in choosing itself,

      existing being

      closes a circuit.”

      Now every sixteen seconds,

      the engine will pass the brakeman

      with his arm always raised

      beside the empty station.

      2

      What do you want to do?

      All impulses come

      from the gods,

      as we know,

      and lead god knows where,

      though each hero

      has her own set

      of god-given epithets,

      “Insta-bright”

      and

      “All-dimming”

      MY LOVE

      1

      As love settles briefly

      on a houseplant,

      a shoe,

      and with steady purpose

      keeps moving

      until it climbs the wall,

      the sun

      2

      They say hate is love

      turned sour

      because it was unwelcome

      where it paused.

      More often, love’s worn thin

      by wrapping itself

      around unwieldy things

      3

      Let our eyelids

      lie flat

      and spread

      like lily pads

      beside themselves

      on a murky pond

      TEST

      This is only a test,

      I was told often.

      I was trying

      to count down

      to you.

      Five pointed leaves.

      Five-petaled flowers.

      Starfish.

      I had been cautioned

      not to point.

      Feats of balance

      might be the solution.

      Perky sepals

      back-combed

      around the flower’s

      sticky note.

      GUISES

      I come up

      again and again

      as if from the ground,

      as if

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