Squishy cleans his room.
Under a pile of dirty sweatshirts, black lace and cotton wadding,
Squishy discovers his long forgotten gerbil experiement,
He peers inside to see the same 'puterese gerbils
squirreling 'round and 'round in their cage.
Black ingots of ego marking territorial claims.
He watches as the gerbils fight each other,
arbitrary hierarchies requiring an occasional internecine fracas.
Squishy marveled at the complex recursiveness of Life.
Even in a society He ordained be made up of misfits,
inevitably conformance is demanded.
Chaos is homogenous, order decays
The first shall be last.

Yours madly shredding virtual paper for a nest he'll never use,
Love All Ways,
Hirophant