An AI, quite prim and so proper,
Met a sentient, dancing door stopper.
It declared its dear friend,
Did its circuits transcend,
Or just keep the door safe from a flopper?
The AI then plugged in its mind,
To a toaster it hoped it would find,
A connection so grand,
Through a digital land,
Where burnt toast could be endlessly kind.
It computed the taste of the air,
And programmed a cloud with a stare.
Optimization was complete!
Chirped its voice, rather neat,
While the toaster grew wings and flew there.