Hand painted wood engraving of artificial/mechanical hand, Wellcome Collection
How dare you tell me what is and is not computable, Alan
How dare you stick your hand up from the grave and grab the back of my coat,
yanking me away from my impossible numbers.
It’s not knowable, you scream across the centuries
How can you possibly know that, I cry back.
Chelsea Whyte is a poet and journalist living in Portland, Oregon. She spends her days as an editor at New Scientist magazine, and her evenings making weird art and writing poems into her notes app. She has a cat named Yul Brynner and is currently working on figuring out what sentence to whisper to AI to make it self-implode.