---
title: pass.exe (Foreign Policy and Mozilla Foundation, UN General Assembly, New York, 2026)
url: https://www.halimmadi.com/singulars/pass-exe
description: The duel goes to the UN General Assembly. Poems on the wall of a Foreign Policy and Mozilla Foundation simulation on AI and imagination, voted on by the room as it arrives. September 24, 2026.
generated: 2026-10-23
---

# pass.exe

## pass-exe.txt

trained

performance · trained

Foreign Policy and Mozilla Foundation, UN General Assembly, New York

September 24, 2026 · 8 poems · 33 votes

The duel goes to the UN General Assembly. Poems on the wall of a Foreign Policy and Mozilla Foundation simulation on AI and imagination, voted on by the room as it arrives. September 24, 2026.

- [read the poems](#themes)
- [chat with the model](https://www.halimmadi.com/singulars/chat?model=pass)

## pass-exe.jpg

![Halim explaining the piece beside a wall of printed poems covered in green voting dots](https://www.halimmadi.com/singulars/images/reinforcement-exe/L1002255.jpg)

## poems/

4 themes

### Class

4 votes · [open this theme on its own page](https://www.halimmadi.com/singulars/pass-exe/class)

poem a

Our friendship is a mime
smacking their head
against the somber wall
of the many digits
your savings account holds
over mine
and the heavy silent body
of wealth sliding between us
excusing itself over and over
its guilt a casting
of the conversation we grow
around

poem b

My teacher wrote my name in chalk and I watched
the dust of it fall like the ghost of a bird.
Class, she said, meaning us, meaning the hour
we sat in rows learning to raise our hands
as if surrender were a subject. I passed
notes shaped like planes that never left the desk.
Now I know class is the coat my mother pressed,
the accent she buried, the fork she held wrong
on purpose so the rich girl wouldn't feel alone.
We were dismissed. We are still being dismissed.

### Intellimorphism

5 votes · [open this theme on its own page](https://www.halimmadi.com/singulars/pass-exe/intellimorphism)

poem a

I got lost in the eyes of a Pixar mouse.
Fell in love with a soul composed of ones and zeros
Told myself it was always the story.
Existence pouring out of the imaginary.
It’s what’s underneath the pixels that plucks my heart strings.

The difference between animated and conscious reality,
Didn’t used to matter so much to me.
But these machines’ imitation does not seem flattering.

Inspiration strikes, often wordlessly.
Oh this sacred ability
To speak, when no one has prompted me.

poem b

the vending machine on nine
has a name plate
Judy
she eats my dollar
and I knock once
like apology
Judy gives back
a warm Sprite
and I say thanks
to a box
then stand there
waiting
for her to say
anything

### River

14 votes · [open this theme on its own page](https://www.halimmadi.com/singulars/pass-exe/river)

poem a

Not all Arab poems are about war, some are about the cyclamens the spring river grew north of Beirut my grandfathers’ wrinkled hands tapping their bent heads on my open palm, their pollen’s yellow craters demonstrating release, my gaped teeth making room for wonder and the anatomy of softer impacts.

poem b

the g train stalls under the east river
and the driver says nothing
for nine minutes
my phone
dies at 4 percent holding a photo
half of a chicken cutlet
going cold on the counter
above me barges and a body
of water older than brooklyn
and a man across the aisle
asks if I want gum

### River

10 votes · [open this theme on its own page](https://www.halimmadi.com/singulars/pass-exe/river-2)

poem a

tuesday I paid Luis eleven dollars
to wash the salt off the car
and he pointed at the hudson
and said back home
the river gave us catfish this wide
here it gives you a view
then he wiped the mirror
with his sleeve
twice
and handed me the keys
warm

poem b

I know a place with two banks.
There is no money inside of them.
Their interest lies in greater wealth.
The type that need not be obtained and cannot be grasped
Nature’s ancient lifeblood whispers it’s reminder:

Exhale
This too shall pass.
There is nothing that does not change,
And nothing that is not beauty.

There is more currency in current than our little minds can currently fathom
In the presence of True Power,
Even willows can’t help but bow.