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
