Mo'a Ti
The Chat is a Poem: On Interface, Language, and the Shape of Dialogue
May 2025
/
3 min.
Designing a UX for a feed builder powered by an LLM has made me think a lot about language, rhythm, and the small details that guide thought.
A pause.
An ellipsis.
A slight delay before the next message appears.
These are not just interactions—they’re part of the dialogue. They shape how a user thinks. When working with a model that reasons, the interface becomes part of that reasoning. It doesn’t just show the result. It becomes a co-thinker.
I find myself treating each micro-interaction like a line break in a poem.
Not decorative. Not filler.
But structure.
A way to make space.
A moment to breathe.
There’s something deeply concrete-poetic about it.
The experience becomes the language.
The interface becomes the syntax.
The user becomes the co-author.
We’re not just designing functionality.
We’re designing a felt dialogue.
Which is maybe, in a quiet way,
a kind of poetry.
Designing a UX for a feed builder powered by an LLM has made me think a lot about language, rhythm, and the small details that guide thought.
A pause.
An ellipsis.
A slight delay before the next message appears.
These are not just interactions—they’re part of the dialogue. They shape how a user thinks. When working with a model that reasons, the interface becomes part of that reasoning. It doesn’t just show the result. It becomes a co-thinker.
I find myself treating each micro-interaction like a line break in a poem.
Not decorative. Not filler.
But structure.
A way to make space.
A moment to breathe.
There’s something deeply concrete-poetic about it.
The experience becomes the language.
The interface becomes the syntax.
The user becomes the co-author.
We’re not just designing functionality.
We’re designing a felt dialogue.
Which is maybe, in a quiet way,
a kind of poetry.
Designing a UX for a feed builder powered by an LLM has made me think a lot about language, rhythm, and the small details that guide thought.
A pause.
An ellipsis.
A slight delay before the next message appears.
These are not just interactions—they’re part of the dialogue. They shape how a user thinks. When working with a model that reasons, the interface becomes part of that reasoning. It doesn’t just show the result. It becomes a co-thinker.
I find myself treating each micro-interaction like a line break in a poem.
Not decorative. Not filler.
But structure.
A way to make space.
A moment to breathe.
There’s something deeply concrete-poetic about it.
The experience becomes the language.
The interface becomes the syntax.
The user becomes the co-author.
We’re not just designing functionality.
We’re designing a felt dialogue.
Which is maybe, in a quiet way,
a kind of poetry.
1. Dialogue as Spatial Poetics
Concrete poetry treats language not just as meaning, but as form, space, and movement.
Similarly, LLM-based dialogue UIs break away from static blocks of text and become a sequential, spatial performance—a message at a time, a slow unfolding.
Concrete Poetry ≈ Form + Function + Language as Object
LLM Dialogue UX ≈ Language + Time + Interface as Experience
Both are designed experiences of language.
2. The Page vs. The Prompt
Concrete poetry reshapes the page—breaking linearity, inserting pause, layering silence.
LLM dialogue reshapes the prompt—built turn by turn, contextually, temporally.
Each message in a dialogue UI is like a concrete stanza:
Self-contained, yet relational
Positioned in visual space
Meaning that shifts with sequence and pacing
3. The Interface as Poem
A good chat UI is a poem made of blocks, rhythm, interaction.
There’s white space. Delay. Anticipation.
There’s even the “cut-up” logic of LLM outputs—like Burroughs or Tzara with code.
Where concrete poetry uses type, form, and space to create engagement,
LLM UX uses tone, pacing, and micro-interaction to do the same.
4. User as Reader-Performer
In both, the reader becomes performer:
In concrete poetry, you navigate form and structure.
In LLM interfaces, the user’s input co-authors the next line.
The interface is alive.
It listens.
It responds.
It rewrites itself.
The future of language is not just what we say—
but how we shape the spaces between.
INSIGHTS is a collection of thoughts, fragments, and reflections on design, poetry, and visual language. Sometimes structured. Sometimes spontaneous. Always in dialogue with the work.
1. Dialogue as Spatial Poetics
Concrete poetry treats language not just as meaning, but as form, space, and movement.
Similarly, LLM-based dialogue UIs break away from static blocks of text and become a sequential, spatial performance—a message at a time, a slow unfolding.
Concrete Poetry ≈ Form + Function + Language as Object
LLM Dialogue UX ≈ Language + Time + Interface as Experience
Both are designed experiences of language.
2. The Page vs. The Prompt
Concrete poetry reshapes the page—breaking linearity, inserting pause, layering silence.
LLM dialogue reshapes the prompt—built turn by turn, contextually, temporally.
Each message in a dialogue UI is like a concrete stanza:
Self-contained, yet relational
Positioned in visual space
Meaning that shifts with sequence and pacing
3. The Interface as Poem
A good chat UI is a poem made of blocks, rhythm, interaction.
There’s white space. Delay. Anticipation.
There’s even the “cut-up” logic of LLM outputs—like Burroughs or Tzara with code.
Where concrete poetry uses type, form, and space to create engagement,
LLM UX uses tone, pacing, and micro-interaction to do the same.
4. User as Reader-Performer
In both, the reader becomes performer:
In concrete poetry, you navigate form and structure.
In LLM interfaces, the user’s input co-authors the next line.
The interface is alive.
It listens.
It responds.
It rewrites itself.
The future of language is not just what we say—
but how we shape the spaces between.
INSIGHTS is a collection of thoughts, fragments, and reflections on design, poetry, and visual language. Sometimes structured. Sometimes spontaneous. Always in dialogue with the work.
1. Dialogue as Spatial Poetics
Concrete poetry treats language not just as meaning, but as form, space, and movement.
Similarly, LLM-based dialogue UIs break away from static blocks of text and become a sequential, spatial performance—a message at a time, a slow unfolding.
Concrete Poetry ≈ Form + Function + Language as Object
LLM Dialogue UX ≈ Language + Time + Interface as Experience
Both are designed experiences of language.
2. The Page vs. The Prompt
Concrete poetry reshapes the page—breaking linearity, inserting pause, layering silence.
LLM dialogue reshapes the prompt—built turn by turn, contextually, temporally.
Each message in a dialogue UI is like a concrete stanza:
Self-contained, yet relational
Positioned in visual space
Meaning that shifts with sequence and pacing
3. The Interface as Poem
A good chat UI is a poem made of blocks, rhythm, interaction.
There’s white space. Delay. Anticipation.
There’s even the “cut-up” logic of LLM outputs—like Burroughs or Tzara with code.
Where concrete poetry uses type, form, and space to create engagement,
LLM UX uses tone, pacing, and micro-interaction to do the same.
4. User as Reader-Performer
In both, the reader becomes performer:
In concrete poetry, you navigate form and structure.
In LLM interfaces, the user’s input co-authors the next line.
The interface is alive.
It listens.
It responds.
It rewrites itself.
The future of language is not just what we say—
but how we shape the spaces between.
INSIGHTS is a collection of thoughts, fragments, and reflections on design, poetry, and visual language. Sometimes structured. Sometimes spontaneous. Always in dialogue with the work.
Antonija Škugor
Share Article
Share Article
Share Article
© Mo'a Ti 2025.
© Mo'a Ti 2025.
© Mo'a Ti 2025.
