I recently bought a volume of the works of Edgar Allan Poe during lunch, and I admit I wasted over an hour of work time that I should have spent reading OTA appeals, or pulling together podcast content, or writing articles to instead read favorites like “The Tell-Tale Heart” and, of course, “The Raven.”
But some good did come of it because I thought AI might do a good job of creating a spoof poem of “The Raven.” The results were pretty good, but you know the rule — don’t just rely on what AI pumps out — so I also tweaked it. I’m sure I committed various tense shifts, approximate rhymes, and scansion that leaves a lot to be desired, among other crimes of poetry. Hopefully, I won’t have to eat crow.
“The Haven”
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of offshore lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some auditor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December;
And each asset in my portfolio wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
Respite from my wealth-born sorrow—sorrow for my dwindling store—
For the rare and radiant fortune that the angels name “secure”—
Taxed here forevermore.
Then a whisper, softly creeping, as if some dark secret keeping,
Spoke of islands far and distant, spoke of shores with golden store.
“Take thy wealth across the water, hide it there from those who bother,
Let no tax man ever gather what is rightfully your lore.
In these havens, safe and hidden, you shall prosper evermore—
Shall be poor, ah, nevermore!”
Now my coffers, ever growing, with the wealth forever flowing
To accounts where none may follow, to that far and distant shore.
And my assets from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be taxed here—nevermore!
