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Something strange happens when I search for this poem. Something that feels funny and subversive and maybe a little bleak. I type: "There lies a den," and then Google drops in to help me. So eager to get involved. "Dental hygienist?" it prompts. You know, as in, "There lies a dental hygienist/Beyond the seeming confines of the space/Made for the soul to wander in and trace/Its own existence, of remotest glooms." That's it. That's it. Great poetry, eh? A great poem changes every time you return to it. Because you have changed. A bit of that, certainly. A bit...
Let's step back a little. At the beginning, after the splash screen, after the parody of an EULA and the warnings regarding interactions with AI simulacrum, Ice-Bound starts to tell you a story. Text appears, one paragraph after the other. A rhythm is almost established, and then it falters. Sentences begin to glow and shudder. Interjections appear: A more organic metaphor? A more poetic word? Less pretentious. The words start to shift, new options flickering in and flickering out. On my side of the screen I try to keep up with the changes. On the other side of the screen, someone is clearly unsatisfied.
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