Bringing Mae Flowers

There’s comfort in chaos
That an organized mind
Would struggle to find while
Navigating through thoughts
Falling out of boxes
And side-stepping time
Melting like Dali’s clocks.

When ideas are littered
Like leaves after harvest,
And wasted hours
Spill from managed blocks,
Calm grows in the refuse-

Nourished from the decomposed concepts
Of productivity and order.