Taster (poem)
Let me introduce myself here
With an aquatic air
At once displacing that of fear
Like the snap of a snare.
Wet reverberation ticking
The controversial box –
The deep tones the buttons flicking:
With all the stealth of fox.
Pleasures heightened and pain muted
Whilst the mind discusses
The truth — where it once refuted.
Consider these pluses.
No day left behind or given
To another waster
Of time. For I have been driven
To being a taster.
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