Stale Poetry, Fast

Against a backdrop

of this everything now world

I find myself slowing down,

wishing

this ordinary minute,

this action of pen in hand

transferring thoughts to paper,

creased from its time in my back pocket,

could be sliced,

and placed under a microscope

to be examined

before it is converted

to ones and zeros

and broadcast

to the Earth.

Yet,

here it is.