I just breathed an armful
Of some air
Almost wine glasses full ~ quaffed lasciviously
A still vaping vamp
A toting nitrogen-bong guppy..
Pouring like rapturous rain
A megalopolitan merman honey marine..
My lungs of slayer pavement steam
An urban isotope yea-sayer
No messing around
Always willing to try new things I am..
Well it is my day off
And I don't think anyone noticed
I enjoy this experience of really breathing deeply
Perhaps I should have done this while I was..
Still a teenager..
I suppose this might become a problem
A full-blown intense breathing addiction
A breath-head loser
Another atmosphere casualty..
Oh I knew he was on something..
The high street granny gaggle collectively gasp
Some men buy fast cars
But as I don't drive
I might take up this
What will women think
Oh I sense their florid murmurations right now
Watching me stoked
Almost in an ecstasy
With only my head whirling
A human blowfish on spin..
A washing machine mind air-locked inside-outside-in
Wagons circle the bends..
I don't wish to be crude
But I am doing the breathing thing right now
Almost two degenerate wine glasses full
And to be frank
It feels pretty good
I know I shouldn't say that
Especially to sensitive poetry types like yourself..
I have a webcam
I can show you
Draw your curtains tight
The land-locked Zen of suck-in-and-blow slap-and-tickle
And I won't ask you what you're airing
As we breathe together..
Stand back my lovely
I hope you're not very married..
There was a time
For the scribes
Of broken line ridiculousness
Bequeathing the midnight oil lamps
Opium and quinine fortified
They blasted the oud-scented curlicues
And threw a few words in
When their syphilis quack pharmacist threw a tab-tantrum
Later generations rolled rings bluely hashish and alcohol swirly
Perhaps before soon
It might be nitrogen and oxygen
With a dash of helium
Supposedly now wrapping this neck of our trinary system
Or is it binary
Interacting and flashing green our parochial sun
But I don't wish to start a trend..
So please listen
Just say no to Really Breathing
And yes I admit that I am a hypocrite
You may even write a poem about my shameless hypocrisy if you wish
I get it
The Queen will give you an imperial gong
And you can be her laureate
Poet Oxygen Thieves in Need
That's surely a telethon..
Let's work it
Don't go to the pub tonight
Give this airhead poet five pounds
Poets aren't here for Christmas
They're here for life..
Soon I should be drowning pints
Litres of this wretched stuff
Sat on a park bench lost and bewildered
Imbibing this strange esoteric ether
With eyes like sockets of a zombie apocalypse
And I don't believe I can ever stop now
It might even kill me before it kills me
Especially that pure grade beach surf ionic shit..
Here goes everyday
Escape velocity boomerang
Yeah it was a difficult childhood..