Why Is A Robot Writing Poetry?
If, as Wordsworth said, poetry is human emotion recollected in tranquillity, what happens when verses are scrawled in sand on the floor of a shopping centre? When they are left unguarded, to be kicked and scuffed by customers wandering into a coffee bar? We’ll find out this week, when a robot called Skryf snakes through a British shopping center. Sorry: centre.
