Poetry Soup

Sometimes I feel it within me bubbling, hissing pop! beneath the surface a cauldron of ideas and I get the urge to take a big spoon and mash them all together stir ‘em up, squish ‘em down sploosh adding a dash of comma, a Pinch of misplaced Capitalization and a whole jar of allegory let it simmer for a couple of hours not too long now and then when the mixture is colorful morning dew abatement musty swim delicious red hot nighttime I pour it out upon the page drop by drop letting the sensations seep slowly into outside the box pooling peacefully onto “poetry” and “prose” and look! look closer at the formless rhythm and peer down the depths of the clouded moonflower acrid sunset beyond the obvious...into oblivious oblivion but deeper... It is my soul.