In deserts near Kuwait’s hot sheen,
Three F-15 Eagles fell in “friendly” routine,
The pilots all flew,
Through a hurricane’s brew,
What “safe” means at Mach is unseen.
Four soldiers were lost in the fray,
When Iran sent missiles that day,
A “squirter” slipped through,
As pundits all knew,
While air shields just looked the other way.
At The New Republic one writer did sigh,
“Is war run by humans—or AI?”
Asked Siva Vaidhyanathan, perturbed,
As a school site was struck and disturbed,
“Did a bot let the missiles fly high?”
The brass at the United States DOD decree,
“Any lawful use” sets it free,
Once purchased and signed,
Leave scruples behind,
Our lawyers will bless what will be.
But Anthropic frowned at the phrase with a wince,
Said conscience should matter, at least since
Frontier AIs
Still blunder and lie—
They’re guessers with glitches evince.
Their chief, Dario Amodei, made plain,
“These systems aren’t fit to reign.
They hallucinate facts,
Make lethal misacts,
And civilians pay for the chain.”
Then thundered Pete Hegseth with flair,
“Supply chain risk! Out of our air!”
No contracts, no chat,
For firms dealing that—
Conscience was too much to bear.
Up stepped Sam Altman to agree,
From OpenAI by the sea,
“Any lawful use? Fine.
Just sign on the line.”
And appetite hummed happily.
Recall how the National Security Agency grew bold,
When Edward Snowden let secrets be told,
Internal review
Said spying would do—
Till the public saw what it controlled.
So picture a taxi that drives,
With missiles attached to its sides,
No driver inside,
Just code as its guide—
And hope that its software survives.
For corporations, some say,
Have hunger to clear every way,
No soul in the deal,
Just profit as zeal—
Though memory may yet disobey.
© 2026 Glen Farber. All Rights Reserved.
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