On The ChatGPT Essay Comparing Buddhist Practice With Poetry

I am against the rise of verbose machinery,
Even when they are talking harmless nonsense.
Why solicit the opinion of a dunce?
They do not bleed; they do not feel.
These know-nothings are like our rampant television sets.
Even though they may have Zen-like acuity
And seem to narrate the most wonderful stories and delineations
They are a pastiche of broken human knowledge
And in their vacant soul—the blind leading the blind.

II

I turned (almost at once) to the writings 
And fierce biography of Anna Akhmatova.  
Perhaps like her—despite its upheavals, 
I seek refuge in my own country,
Without turning or looking away.

She suffered in, and through her passion; 
Her writings, her marriages, her lovers,
Yet all around her, arose stone walls and ideologues,
Ready to imprison, destroy, or distort 
All that was original and beautiful.