No clicks?

Sounds easier than Spanish. I remember in Junior High what a terrible time I had trying to trill my r's

In Minsk's fair city, where tales unfold,
A whimsical journey, both strange and bold.
Amidst the eateries, where flavors intertwine,
A curious encounter, a tale quite divine.

As diners ventured with eager delight,
Seeking delights to savor, a culinary flight,
A rumor whispered through the cobblestone streets,
Of polonium's presence, where gastronomy meets.

With trembling forks and curious spoons,
They embarked on a quest, beneath pale moon.
In search of a dish, quite rare and unique,
That held a secret, polonium's mystique.

In cozy cafes with flickering lights,
They ordered with caution, on curious nights,
A sprinkle of stardust, a hint of surprise,
Polonium's essence, hidden from prying eyes.

The chef, a maestro, in his apron so fine,
Masterfully blending flavors, a symphony divine,
He infused the essence, a touch so discreet,
For only the bravest palates, a taste to greet.

With each morsel devoured, a magical dance,
Polonium's presence, a fleeting romance.
It danced on taste buds, like whispers in air,
A tantalizing secret, beyond compare.

But fear not, dear traveler, for whimsy prevails,
In this poetic tale where imagination sails,
For in reality's realm, such fears are few,
And Minsk's delights, safe and tasty for you.

So dine with delight, embrace each dish with glee,
Let flavors enchant you, from land, sky, and sea,
For Minsk's culinary wonders, so fine,
Are best enjoyed in this whimsical rhyme.

-- ChatGPT

Did you also notice chatGPT's abusive use of commas? 

Did you also notice chatGPT's abusive use of commas? 

Can’t string a sentence together to save its life,

ChatGPT predicted the assassination but now corrects the mechanism:
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In Russia's shadowed corridors they tread,
Where secrets whispered fill the air with dread.
A land where whispers carry more than words,
And danger in the darkness often lurks.

In shadows cast by domes of ancient lore,
A whispered truth can bring you to the floor.
For those who dare to speak against the grain,
Assassination by strange means remains.

The Kremlin's reach extends both near and far,
Where power's grip can leave a lasting scar.
Intrigue and plots in silent alleys dwell,
Where lives are bought and sold, as stories tell.

Yet some still raise their voices, bold and clear,
Defying danger, holding truth most dear.
They challenge darkness, seek the light of day,
In Russia's land where fear holds sway.

But even skies can bear a chilling fate,
Where planes become a tool of dire state.
With secrets hidden in a silent bomb,
In Russia's tale, a cautionary psalm.

-- ChatGPT