Every time I'm AI tempted, because the curiosity level quite high,
Turn away, for the caloric risk of a bag of Hershey's kisses is nada
Compared to the heroinic addiction of that 'helping' slippery slop(e)

Finally asked, the nameless Intelligencer within my tablet's purveyor,
The burning question. "Write me a poem in the style of Nat Lipstadt,''
watched the throbber thinge (endless circling icon indicating
the machine is "thinking" about it)

Shocking response!

*Roses are red,
violets are blueish,
copying the style of nat
lipstadt,
is uniquish,
therefore impossible
to do,
to-dooo~
wapa-dooo~
uplicate