A jumble of words I cannot utter
For their incoherence
I consciously mumble to myself
Struggling to put into writing
The garbled mess of my mind:

Filled with images
Of discarded tires and umbrellas
Of sandwiches and old socks
Withered flowers I bought
For no one in particular
The street where I live
The unbearable sadness of
Losing a dime
My self-referential musings
Of time loops and black holes

All nonsense...

Reality is now this gooey
And icky, unrecognizable
Substance.