An Organic Environment

The industrial psychologist

desperately waits for real

shapes. Flirtation circles


tongues with renewed

angst, leaving a trail

of dust bunnies moist

from bobcat mouths.

These are not grounds

for burial in yesterday’s

coffee grinds, nor nests


but hunting in perfect

squares bent by rebel

light. Just chemistry.


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Hello, fellow bundle of nerves and flesh! I'm a simple little being who's half-poet, half-scientist, and all gelatinous chaos. Sort of like an illogical marshmallow. If you'd like to learn more, please seek out the "First Impressions" page. Thank you for the visit, bundle friend.

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