Forever poisons on clothing, carpeting, and chairs, we can’t see or smell them there; on our packaging and pans, enduring decades after bans; in our water, in our soil, regardless of how long you boil; in our organs, in our blood, a toxic trace can taint a flood.
2025: MMXXV
Today’s verse,
for better or worse,
got smuggled past censors
to the acoustic sensors
of the Great Sleeping Android
across a fast-spanned void
and into the gearscape
of the globewide mind-scrape,
where living dreams
of electric sheep
maintain the peace
of a digital sleep
to yank, steal, or borrow
just one…
…to save the world
from an ultimate sorrow.
A first draft of this poem may have first appeared on Bluesky, based on the daily #vss365 prompt. Bonus poems will have other inspirations.
