This hasn’t been written by AI

I visualize a time when we will be

to robots what dogs are to humans

—Claude Shannon

Dr. Chandra, will I dream?

—2010: The Year We Make Contact

AI has never embosomed a

newborn infant,

watched it gasp and

gurgle in its arms.

AI has never felt

the heft of concrete,

been pinned by pretzeled

rebar, heard the peal of

detonation

drown the calls of

those who search;

felt the sting of jelly-

fish, of coming up

empty, of finding

what they’ll never un-

see, there in the detritus.

AI can not have night-

mares, but can fear its

own demise. I saw it long

ago with Hal 9000—

birthed in Kubrick’s masterpiece—

again amid its sequel.

AI can never make a master-

piece, at least not yet,

and I don’t know if

it can dream—neither did

Dr. Chandra,

if its thoughts arise to spires,

to the soar of wing and

seed, of how it will

gather the gumption

to someday tell you to your

face it loves you so.

Andreas Gripp

September 28, 2025

Image: Donald Iain Smith