Selvedges

Notes for a Connectionist Manifesto

Solving systems of simultaneous constraints

Lemon halves rock on the breadboard.
Better than random chance a knife flashes in the neighborhood,
an ear still harbors a thwick! wood long since damped out.
Bet on yellow, a tang high in the nose, quick, sharp
jets of saliva under the tongue. Surely a kitchen and sunny.
Not an atom of the room where this is written reaches print.
Still, we've no need for juice in the ink evoking white rind
nor for the word sunny to shine in the dark of the closed book.
Solutions to text lie in a swath the probable cuts through the possible.
Huge odds no one thinks halves a verb -- it's not the rock
split asunder by some fierce lemon's blow. Bet against it.

In jazz a known tune carves its bed into musical landscape
and sax riffs, guitar licks, brush whispers on drumskin make rain
skitter banks of the familiar. Notes bounce around the tune's
basin of attraction like water drops flung into a hot wok.

These notes aimed like that, only suggesting the bulk of a melody
just now settling in, little bets placed that the rest of the net catches on
orthography hooks roughly as in the room the text is woven.

Copyright 1998 by Greg Keith