LOOKING FOR ANSWERS ON CHATGPT

by Ann E. Wallace

Tell me about Tyre Nichols.
 
I don’t have any information
about Tyre Nichols as a person 
or a notable public figure.
 
Can you provide more context 
or details about who Tyre is 
or what you’re looking for?
 
Tell me about Tyre’s life.
 
Skateboarding appeals to young men
for several reasons:
     Independence
     Creativity
     Community
     Adventure
     Freedom
 
Skateboarding provides 
a sense of freedom. 
 
Tell me more.
 
Photographing sights of beauty within the city can be
a creative and rewarding hobby for young men.
 
Here are some reasons why:
     Creative outlet
     Exploration
     Documentary
     Social engagement
     Personal growth
 
Photography can help young men 
develop new perspectives, as they learn 
to see the world through a lens 
and express themselves.
 
Tell me about Tyre’s pain.
 
Crohn’s disease 
is a type of inflammatory bowel 
disease.
 
Symptoms include: 
     Pain
     Rectal bleeding
     Weight loss
     Fatigue.
 
Assault, such as being punched
or kicked, can cause intense physical pain,
further exacerbating these symptoms.
 
Tell me about his heart.
 
Parenting a 4-year can be both rewarding
and challenging. 
     Encourage independence.
     Foster creativity.
     Set boundaries. 
     Encourage physical activity. 
     Promote language development. 
     Use positive reinforcement. 
     Show affection.
     Be patient.
 
To help a 4-year old grieve
     Be honest
     Keep the memory alive
     Take care of yourself
 
To help a mother grieve
    Listen
    Respect her feelings
    Be patient

Tell me.
 
To help a nation heal
    Address the root causes
    Encourage reconciliation
    Foster
    Encourage
    Support
    Address
    Foster
    Encourage action
 
These steps are not exhaustive.
Process your emotions
Seek information
Take action
Stay informed
Practice Self Care.
 
Please tell me something about Tyre.
 
In Memphis, the sunsets in January 
are usually beautiful, 
a stunning display of warm
and vibrant colors.
 
The angle of the sun 
is lower in the sky,
which can result in longer
and more dramatic sunsets 
as the sun takes longer
to dip below the horizon.
 

Author’s note: I composed this poem by curating language from the AI platform ChatGPT's responses to a series of questions (not exclusively those in the poem) about Tyre Nichols. ChapGPT, an incredibly powerful artificial intelligence resource that has been touted as able to handle the most complex challenges, cannot begin to capture who Tyre Nichols was and what his life meant. It fails, just like humans so often do, to measure a life.

Ann E. Wallace is Poet Laureate of Jersey City, NJ, where she is an English Professor at New Jersey City University. Her work has appeared in The New Verse News, Huffington Post, Wordgathering, Gyroscope Review, and many other journals. Her published work is available online at AnnWallacePhD.com and on Instagram @annwallace409.

STREET CRIMES OPERATION TO RESTORE PEACE IN OUR NEIGHBORHOODS (SCORPION)

by John Whitney Steele

The predatory arachnids of the order,

Scorpiones, sit and wait for prey

to move, unknowing, into the ambush zone.

Once the prey has been detected 

they turn, run, and seize it. 

    If the prey

is perceived to be aggressive or active, 

they inject it with their venom.

Otherwise they simply hold and eat it.

The victim’s body parts are broken down,

liquified, and sucked into the scorpion’s 

stomach. 

The victim is gradually reduced

to a ball of indigestible 

material, 

which is cast aside.

John Whitney Steele is a psychologist, yoga teacher, assistant editor of Think: A Journal of Poetry, Fiction and Essays, and graduate of the MFA Poetry Program at Western Colorado University. His chapbook, The Stones Keep Watch, and his full length collection of poetry, Shiva’s Dance were recently published by Kelsay Books. John lives in Boulder, Colorado and enjoys hiking in the mountains.

MURDER IN MEMPHIS

by Jean Varda

We all felt it when the

men in uniform

tore him from his car,

threw him on the

pavement pressed his

face into the sidewalk.

We all felt it when they

tased and pepper sprayed

him as he ran for his life.

We all felt it when they

punched kicked and

stomped him.

We all heard him when he

called for his mother,

as he felt his life spiral

away from him

and we heard her

heart break.

Jean Varda's poetry has appeared in The New Verse News, California Quarterly, Evening Street Review, Raven's Perch, and Boston Literary Magazine. She recently published an anthology of her poetry titled: Oracle. She resides in Northern California where she leads writing groups and is writing her memoirs.

WATCH THE VIDEO

by George Held

Screenshot of the video of the murder of Tyre Nichols.

For Rodney King

 

 

After Memphis, what more can we ask video

to do? After Tyre Nichols, what more

can it confirm? About barbarity,

good ol’ American barbarity? 

The Nazis had nothing on us when it

comes to barbarity. Just look at

the video and see those black men in

uniform dishing out murderous mayhem,

 

killing Tyre as surely as pink-cheeked

SS troopers brutally murdered an old Slav

or a Jew. Yes, these assassins, blond or black,

and legitimized by uniform, carry out

the will of the culture, brutalize the despised

while we, mute, wait to watch the video.

 

George Held occasionally contributes to The NVN and has poems now in Ultimate Reality and Jerry Jazz Magazine.

LOW BEAMS IN THE MISSISSIPPI DELTA

by James Croteau

Along the Mississippi Delta. Image source: My American Odyssey

Only low beams lit the road

as my parents drove Highway 61

from Memphis through Clarksdale

to Cleveland with civil rights marches

all around us. I never knew

it's not a delta at all, no mouth

until further south. It's all alluvial

plain, this place of my birth. Grandpa

disembarked in Baltimore's harbor

in 1921, moved south when

cotton was still king but

he never planted. Instead he owned

a five and dime on Main Street

in Cleveland. I was proud

to help clerk. Sometimes he'd aim

squinted eyes my way, talk the Italian

he taught me “follow that N-word."

"It's the longest stretch of straight road

east of the Great River," my dad

always said as he drove, low beams

to avoid blinding the oncoming

drivers like us. We got used to not seeing

anything beyond the white

cotton by the side of the road.

Living legacies are often at the periphery

of the privileged. Even amid

outcries at the murders in the streets

and the churches, we whites miss

the lay of the land by

low beaming our questions--

Was the officer following policy?

Was the shooter mentally ill?

Isn't the KKK really to blame?

But I've been lucky, my eyes

have been pried apart by

a few good people. I see some

beyond the well-meant

intentions in front of my face.

The fertile flatness was freely

brought by the floods of the Yazoo

and Mississippi, then it was stolen

and exploited--Indian removal, slavery,

sharecropping, Jim Crow de jure

and de facto, this history's alive and

denied. If I high beam my heart

I can see that I could have been

Darren Wilson, even Dylann Roof.

I learn how the land of my birth

really lies, only when I can feel

the white of my finger placed

everyday on the trigger of the gun

I was given on the day I was born.

James M. Croteau lives in Kalamazoo, Michigan with his partner of 28 years, Darryl, and their two Labrador retrievers. Jim grew up gay and Catholic in the southern United States and loved his mother very much. He has had poems published in Hoot: a Postcard review of {mini} poetry and prose, The New Verse News, and Right Hand Pointing. He has a series of poems upcoming in April 2014 in Assaracus: A Journal of Gay Poetry.