If I can take a thought,
And twist it,
Can I broil into a calamity of notions,
The simple boredom,
Of the linearity
And predictability?
Can it be churned,
To a heap of ideas,
Gasping to spring forth,
From my mind to yours?
Will you love them?
My heresy,
Semichaos of ideas,
Disarrays,
Fretting for the spaces,
Allotted,
Allocated.
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