Needing a nudge
A literal push
Just a little start
Through the viscous media
Don't judge
Indeliberate ambush
Pulling all apart
My abhorrent foolish idea
I won't budge
I won't rush
World I would depart
But with such incongruent philia
I'd make the mudge
With a dull crush
With all that is thwart
Only controlling thy sickly bulimia
No, there's no grudge
Everything a lull hush
For it's a worldly cart
A beligerent intimate melancholia
So close, this bridge
In the end it's a mush
Like a speedy dart
None but a Shakespeare's peripeteia
A meaningless buldge
Another meaningless flush
Intermittent existential restart
From this horrible horrendous hysteria
Making this mudge
Or am I in a rush
But before I fall apart
Let me gather my worldly paraphernalia
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