Help
the great contronym experiment
Help!
I am bolted, bound
to enjoin you
let us cleave all—aught
buckled, clipped
blood thickened
to the first degree
It is not only I, left
set off: an unbending variety
wound up
to rock
waves rolling
hard ravelled
We are held up
the world screened
overlooked
skinned, both thick and thin
a colourful feast
spliced sanguinity
The model, mean
needs fixing
to go out like stars
be put out like hearts
a perilous rose pink
worn on sleeves, tempered
The wicked existence of contronyms — I mean why? I mean how? I mean will an AI ever really be able to do that? Contronyms are language inviting human input, they are a madness and a joy and a dare …