1 min read

Compressed Airs

I poem best
in immersive light
typed on a specific device
with very precise lo-fi ask me
anything, ASMR

How far
from the inkwell
must one now be
to wet the inclination
of our now ASAP and OH so tony Afflatus

Maybe micro-fiber
my former muse &
subscriber to feather dust
decades of lust, rust, and her
rush to feel coeval..
…past our time, and our
shared compressed airs

Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response….ASMR


I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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