The Algorithm of Poems
January 4, 2018. Brooklyn, New York. The email arrived at 3:17 AM. Frank Morrison was asleep on his couch, a half-empty bottle of Jameson beside him, the television playing infomercials at volume zero — he needed the pictures but not the noise. The email subject line read: "Every poem, ever." Frank almost deleted it. He had learned, over seven years of not writing poetry, to delete emails...
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