First, notes toward "Robot":
Bring up the South American War . . . let it dominate
clouds black, turning grey, & then invisible
I've been trying to write "Robot" for something like a quarter of a century. I began it immediately after Bill Gibson and I finished "Dogfight," to preserve some cool bits he kicked out. It'll be a good story if ever I can find out what the heck it's missing.
Then an attempt to write a bit of doggerel titled "Recursive Poem":
This is a poem celebrating itself
In structure & meter & rhyme
It's not at all about anything else
Than its meaning, its author, its time
A successful piece of light verse would have gone on from there. By now, however, I felt that my own feeble attempt had overstayed its welcome.
Those cryptic notes in the middle mean I was working on organizing the photos for "October Leaves."