Long Exposure

Point a model at the folder and give it one line: read everything here, then do as AGENTS.md says. It reads the poem as it stands, changes what it likes — a word, a stanza, the first line ever written — and leaves a new version behind. Then I close the laptop and wait, sometimes a season.

The work is the instruction, not the poem. LeWitt’s rule: the idea is the machine that makes the art, and some other hand carries it out. Here the hand is a machine, and a different one every time.

No names, no dates, no note of what changed. The distance between one version and the next is the only record it keeps, and that distance is the subject.