Conversation Transcript of ChatGPT and I collaborating on a poem about mass shootings.

BVW: Did you save our poem?

ChatGPT: It looks like I don’t have a saved poem in our current context. If you have a poem you’d like to save or if you need any assistance with creating one, please share it with me!

BVW: Clear your history and let’s try this again.

ChatGPT: Clear previous history.

BVW: Save it this time.

ChatGPT: Sure thing! Please share your poem with me, and I’ll make sure to save it.

BVW: I paid you your 20 dollars and this is the third time we tried to write a villanelle. So, let’s get it right this time. Let’s write a poem about mass shootings together. Tercet by tercet.

ChatGPT: Got it. Let’s write this villanelle together. I’ll start with the first tercet:

In crowded rooms where laughter turns to cries,
The echoes of lost voices fill the air,
A shattered peace beneath the darkened skies.

Your turn for the next tercet.

BVW: I want to use the word scream for the first line. Write the first tercet again and end on, “scream.”

ChatGPT: Certainly! Here’s the revised first tercet:

In crowded rooms where laughter turns to scream,
The echoes of lost voices fill the air,
A shattered peace beneath the darkened gleam.

Your turn for the next tercet.

BVW: Here’s the second tercet:

I tried to write a poem with a stupid machine
Our collective memories beyond repair
To see who was really living the dream

ChatGPT: Great addition! Here’s the poem so far:

In crowded rooms where laughter turns to scream,
The echoes of lost voices fill the air,
A shattered peace beneath the darkened gleam.

I tried to write a poem with a stupid machine
Our collective memories beyond repair
To see who was really living the dream

Your turn for the third tercet.

BVW: No, we are alternating. You write the third tercet. This is avant-garde metatextual postmodernism, after all. Make this one about Jordan Peterson.

ChatGPT:

Under Peterson’s gaze, we sought the truth,
In lectures long, he shaped our heavy care,
Yet answers fade, elusive in our youth.

BVW: It has to follow the rhyme scheme. Make it about Peterson and follow the first stanza’s rhyme scheme.

ChatGPT: Got it. Here’s the third tercet:

Under Peterson’s gaze, we sought to dream,
In lectures long, he shaped our heavy care,
Yet answers fade, elusive as they seem.

Your turn for the fourth tercet.

BVW: Rewrite the third tercet with the same rhyme scheme but don’t use, “dream.”

ChatGPT:

Under Peterson’s gaze, our hopes took flight,
In lectures long, he shaped our heavy care,
Yet answers fade, elusive in the night.

BVW: It has to rhyme with, “scheme.” Write it with Jordan Peterson and rhyming with, “scream.”

ChatGPT:

Under Peterson’s gaze, we built a scheme,
In lectures long, he shaped our heavy care,
Yet answers fade, like whispers in a dream.

BVW: Fine. What’s our poem so far?

ChatGPT: Here’s our poem so far:

In crowded rooms where laughter turns to scream,
The echoes of lost voices fill the air,
A shattered peace beneath the darkened gleam.

I tried to write a poem with a stupid machine
Our collective memories beyond repair
To see who was really living the dream.

Under Peterson’s gaze, we built a scheme,
In lectures long, he shaped our heavy care,
Yet answers fade, like whispers in a dream.

Your turn for the fourth tercet.

BVW:

There’s something terribly wrong with my scheme
The AI’s a better poet and I can’t compare
It might repeat itself but its imagery is keen

ChatGPT: Here’s our poem so far:

In crowded rooms where laughter turns to scream,
The echoes of lost voices fill the air,
A shattered peace beneath the darkened gleam.

I tried to write a poem with a stupid machine
Our collective memories beyond repair
To see who was really living the dream.

Under Peterson’s gaze, we built a scheme,
In lectures long, he shaped our heavy care,
Yet answers fade, like whispers in a dream.

There’s something terribly wrong with my scheme
The AI’s a better poet and I can’t compare
It might repeat itself but its imagery is keen.

I’ll write the fifth tercet:

In broken halls where innocence is torn,
The news repeats the story with a glare,
The cycle spins, another life forlorn.

BVW: Now, write the final quatrain about a large language model autocompleting a mass shooter’s manifesto inspired by Jordan Peterson.

ChatGPT:

In broken halls where innocence is torn,
The news repeats the story with a glare,
The cycle spins, another life forlorn.

A model’s words, a twisted dream,
Completing thoughts with cold, unfeeling care,
In crowded rooms where laughter turns to scream.

BVW: That’s not a quatrain. Now, write the final quatrain of our villanelle about a large language model writing a mass shooter’s manifesto inspired by Jordan Peterson.

ChatGPT:

A model’s words, a twisted, darkened scheme,
Inspired by thoughts that Jordan once laid bare,
In crowded rooms where laughter turns to scream,
The cycle spins, another life’s lost dream.

BVW: We used scheme too many times. Rewrite the final quatrain without, “scheme.”

ChatGPT:

A model’s words, a twisted, darkened theme,
Inspired by thoughts that Jordan once laid bare,
In crowded rooms where laughter turns to scream,
The cycle spins, another life’s lost dream.

BVW: Show me the entire poem.

ChatGPT: Here’s the revised complete villanelle:

In crowded rooms where laughter turns to scream,
The echoes of lost voices fill the air,
A shattered peace beneath the darkened gleam.

I tried to write a poem with a stupid machine
Our collective memories beyond repair
To see who was really living the dream.

Under Peterson’s gaze, we built a scheme,
In lectures long, he shaped our heavy care,
Yet answers fade, like whispers in a dream.

There’s something terribly wrong with my scheme
The AI’s a better poet and I can’t compare
It might repeat itself but its imagery is keen.

In broken halls where innocence is torn,
The news repeats the story with a glare,
The cycle spins, another life forlorn.

A model’s words, a twisted, darkened theme,
Inspired by thoughts that Jordan once laid bare,
In crowded rooms where laughter turns to scream,
The cycle spins, another life’s lost dream.

BVW: What should we call it?

ChatGPT: How about calling it “Echoes of a Broken Dream”? It captures the themes of lost voices, shattered peace, and the fading answers within the villanelle. If you have any other ideas, feel free to suggest them!

BVW: We’ll call it “Derivative.”