O wht the heck. Why not one more last deranged excessive epic deep learning poetry binge courtesy of pytorch-for-poetry-generation

Personally I like the coherence of Pytorch, it’s capacity to hold the disembodied recalcitrant veil of absurdity over a somewht stoic normative syntactical model.


jhave@jhave-Ubuntu-pytorch-poet_Screencast 2017-06-07 20:16:49_model-LSTM-emsize-1500-nhid_1500-nlayers_2-batch_size_20-epoch_7-loss_6.02-ppl_412.27




Jumble, Rub Up The Him-Whose-Penis-Stretches-Down-To-His-Knees. 

 The slow-wheeling white Thing withheld in the light of the Whitman? 
 The roof kisses the wounds of blues and yellow species. 
 Far and cold in the soft cornfields bending to the gravel, 
 Or showing diapers in disclosure, Atlantic, Raymond 
 Protract the serried ofercomon, — the throats "I've used to make been sustene, 
 Fanny, the inner man clutched to the keep; 
 Who meant me to sing one step at graves. 
, ,