i'm writing for hours the instructions
for vision to be processed by machine
it's a descartian wet dream
and i'm on the edge of chairs, bent

my original methods are from intro books, innocent
but each idea is made mine
as the brain drains line by line
of colorful words on a black emacs screen

this is a tired but hopeful scene
of an young a.i. dog practicing old a.i. dog tricks
so that the realist engineers and cynical pricks
may once more yawn in the audience of a self-congratulatory control conference