[Yves S L]

Hi Alessio,

At this point, it is not even a poetry problem.

You need new inputs: try a diet of only 21st century formal verse for about 6 months. Pining about joining Coleridge's utopia in modern times is a sort of absurdist stance which might make a sort of postmodern ironic play centered around student life when it becomes excessively detached and inwardly.

Right now, what is happening is as if a boy who was not allowed to play outside, then spent his life locked in his father's library, reading old books of verse.

The great thing about A.I. is that it shows that one does not even have to have lived a life to imitate older styles of poetry, doing so is just a dumb computational task doable by dead machines: it is a pattern matching exercise which does not require one to understand what the words mean.

Too much bookish imagination, not enough life.

Yeah!