An Interview with Leonardo Chung

Ode to ChatGPT

i think a glass of sparkling, simulated empathy would

be great; now let me swell my admiration before someone

shrieks into my ear—we’ve opened a Pandora’s box!—

but you’re actually just a glorified Google 

and some 100101011001 that might string

some words together 

and call it an essay—but that AI writing detector is catching on!

i can’t say too much, of course. i sure admire

how you can’t conjugate Spanish correctly,

how you can’t solve any—i mean any—math equation,

how all your essays are three paragraphs:

introduction, evidence, conclusion;

but i’m proud of you. i am. and in return

i want you to write an ode to ChatGPT.

         don’t give me your classic four stanzas of four lines 

with AABB rhyme scheme—

                i apologize, but i’m not able to 

                fulfill that request. can i assist you in anything


         actually, no, you can’t.

Leonardo Chung is an avid writer from Phillips Exeter Academy who has been previously published by Hyacinth Review, Across the Margin, Sweet Literary, Sheila-Na-Gig, Clackamas Literary Review, and many others. He was awarded first place in a Poetry Society of Virginia competition and a finalist for the Rash Award in Poetry sponsored by the Broad River Review. He takes inspiration from distinguished poets such as Langston Hughes, Naomi Shihab Nye, and Louise Glück.

Daniel Gernant: Do you have a specific place where you do most of your brainstorming? What does that place look like and why is it so conducive for thought?
Leonardo Chung: My preferred time for writing poetry is late at night, in the quiet solitude of my bedroom. My room, a small space with light blue walls and a single window, becomes a sanctuary after dark. I work at a wooden desk, which holds just my laptop, a notepad, and a few scattered pens. The room is illuminated by a small lamp, casting a warm, golden light. Outside, the world is silent, and inside, the only sound is the soft tapping of keys as I write. This nightly ambiance, in the solitude of my room with the lamp’s gentle glow, offers a peaceful place where my creativity flows most naturally. My thoughts and words find their rhythm, enabling me to craft poems that are deeply personal and reflective.

DG: I thought that your poem Ode to ChatGPT was fascinating. Can you expand on what led you to write this poem?
LC: I wrote “Ode to ChatGPT” at a time when the emerging AI tool was causing widespread attention for its seemingly human-like writing abilities. Amidst the growing excitement, my poem intended to sarcastically discredit the idea that ChatGPT could rival human creativity in poetry and prose. I aimed to highlight the creativity inherent to the human mind—a quality that AI, at least for now, struggles to replicate authentically. Yes, it’s true: ChatGPT can’t generate any poems that aren’t in stanzas of ABAB rhyme scheme. “Ode to ChatGPT” was my playful nod to the limitations of AI in capturing the full spectrum of human poetic expression.

DG: In your bio you mention that you take inspiration from poets like Langston Hughes, Naomi Shihab Nye, and Louise Glück. How have these poets inspired you?
LC: Hughes’ ability to capture social issues in simple yet powerful language taught me the importance of accessibility in poetry. Nye’s work, which often turns mundane moments into interesting narratives, inspired me to observe and find poetry in everyday life. Lastly, Glück’s raw and honest exploration of personal themes encouraged me to delve deeply into my own experiences. Their influence is evident in my thematic choices, the narrative style of my poems, and the way I strive to blend personal introspection with broader themes.

DG: How have your experiences with getting published changed the way that you write?
LC: Having my work published has significantly boosted my confidence as a poet. Initially, I often questioned the value and appeal of my work, but seeing my poetry in print validated my creative endeavors. This acknowledgment from the literary world encouraged me to take bolder risks in my writing. With each publication, I’ve grown more assured in my voice and style, feeling inspired to explore more in-depth themes and experiment with various poetic forms. The positive feedback and constructive criticism from editors and readers have been vital to this growth, helping me to see my work from different perspectives. This journey of being published has transformed me from a hesitant writer to a confident poet, proud of my work and eager to share it with a wider audience.

DG: The way that a poem is structured is a very important part of how it is made. Will you elaborate on how you decide on the structure of your poetry?
LC: The structure of each poem I write is directly influenced by its theme and emotional tone. For example, when writing about loss, I might choose a sparse, free-verse structure to reflect the sense of emptiness and disarray. Conversely, for a poem about a joyful, rhythmic experience, I might use a more structured, repetitive form with rhythm to capture the movement. The decision is always a balance between what best serves the poem’s message and how it resonates emotionally.

DG: What were some challenges that you faced getting into the writing community? Can you shed light on how to navigate these challenges for other potential writers?
LC: Navigating the writing community initially felt daunting due to its competitive nature and the challenge of finding my unique voice. I started by attending online workshops, which helped me build confidence and a network of fellow writers. Submitting poems regularly to journals and magazines, despite facing rejections, taught me the importance of persistence. I also attended several summer writing camps, which helped me work with others to peer review my work. My advice to new writers is to actively engage in writing communities, seek constructive feedback, and remain persistent in honing and sharing their work. Building a presence in the literary world takes time, but consistent effort and a willingness to learn from both successes and setbacks are important.

In Her Web: An Interview with Ambrielle Butler


I walked into a spiderweb in my backyard today, wispy tendrils spanning the landscape,
a fine coating like a silk-strand tightrope, the walls, the fence, the door, it must have
taken her days to build, the cobweb was gentle as it broke against my face, nature’s lace,
the sun hitting it and the webs looked striped— three short, three long, three short
again, the spider sat in the middle, a pin in the pincushion, a dart in the center,
a cyclops eye to the soul, her visitors didn’t look too pleased, the flies lazily
lounging in her creation, ungrateful bastards, I met a man who knew that pleasure,
the high of enjoying another’s handiwork, I needed more from him than fading
wordlessly into the background, more than an expert at excuses, more than wrapping
himself in the threads of my labor and pretending they weren’t the trappings of love,
stuck, a bag of marbles that remembered the feeling of skidding down the drive, a dimmed
bulb that reminisced on the time it was turned on, I was done with stuck, so like the sinister
weaver of my dreams, so like that darkened widow of the past, I plucked this man-child
from the strands, pitied him for what he was, let him fall.

Ambrielle Butler is a writer and poet from Texas. Her poetry can be found in publications like Valley Voices, On the Seawall, Plainsongs, Red Ogre Review, and others. You can find her on Instagram and Twitter @ajbutlerwriting. 

Daniel Gernant: Did you always plan on writing, or did you start out on another career path before you changed passions? Why did you decide to become a writer?
Ambrielle Butler: I’ve been writing stories and poems since I was seven, but I didn’t fully commit to writing until after I became a mother. While I originally was pursuing a career in the sciences, having a baby provided me with time to slow down and tap into my creativity as I sat with all these new emotions and experiences. I started writing again as a way of processing motherhood and I haven’t stopped since. 

DG: I really enjoyed your poem In Her Web, could you share what inspired you to write this poem? Why did you choose to employ imagery of spiders?
AB: We were given an assignment in a workshop to write a stream of consciousness poem. This piece started as an ode to the busy spider I saw creating her web outside my window. Watching her weave such elaborate handiwork, I couldn’t help but marvel at the lengths spiders go to meet their needs. From there, the poem evolved into a reflection on past relationships and the dynamics therein, the concept of being stuck in a mechanism of your own creation and the inevitable undoing of it. 

DG: What is your ideal environment for writing? Please tell us more about it.
AB: I have my best ideas at night. I’m less inhibited and can sit quietly with my thoughts. I’ve also always loved writing outdoors. Nature is so inspiring, which is probably why it shows up so often in my work, and helps me feel more connected to the world around me.

DG: If you had to choose a poem of yours that is your favorite, which would you say? Why is it the one you like the most?
AB: That’s a hard choice. Every poem is personal and reflects a part of myself, and so some poems have more meaning at different times in my life. I’d say at the moment I’m particularly drawn to the vivid memories that Aubade for the Edge of the Cliffs of Moher brings. It was one of the most stunning places I’ve ever been, and perched on the cliffs, you really feel like you’re dangling at the edge of the world. It’s terrifying and exhilarating, your sense of fear and wonder playing tug-of-war the entire time. I also love the playfulness of Lobster Roll. As a self-proclaimed “foodie”, I had a lot of fun flipping the script and poking at the absurdity of the fine dining experience.

DG: How do you find inspiration when you are having trouble? Tell us about your process.
AB: It sounds cliché, but I’ve learned that the best way to find inspiration is to simply start writing. I may sit down and feel like I have nothing to say, but if I can fill a blank page (or two) with words, I’ll usually unearth something worthwhile. I also always carry a notebook with me to jot down thoughts or phrases I may want to write about later. I’ve found inspiration from even the most seemingly mundane days. 

DG: What are your future plans for writing? Can you tell us about whatever you are working on next?
AB: I am continuing to publish poems and short stories in literary magazines, and hope to publish a chapbook in the near future. I also have a mystery novel I’m currently querying to agents and another one in the works. I’m very optimistic about what the future will bring and look forward to growing even more as a writer.