In my mind there is 

A soup of nonsense

Thoughts swirls

All I see

Lost alphabets

Adrift in spoon wakes


To order the thoughts

Is to cut the soup

To chop it on a cutting board

Put it in with the rest of my salad

Sharing a leave with half a pear

Bathed in sweet olive oil


But when I let the soup flow free

Born out on the tides of sweet dreams

The flotsam of inspiration

Floats on bubbles of wit

Giving my days the whimsy

Without which I would be astray


Cube the soup not,

Nor strain out only the succulent bits

It is meant to be a whole

Drank with all the strange ingredients

Together in discordant harmony

An indivisible whole


And if a bay leaf is swallowed

Or a bit of pepper gets in your sinuses

Relish the blast

Enjoy the distinct flavor

Chew so as not to choke

Then drink more 

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