I have the default “There once was a man from _____________” limerick stuck in my head. It’s maddening.

The cadence of my words
and the movement of my legs
are one
                                   are one.

Don’t ask me how I know
about the meaning of the flow
(there’s none
                                   there’s none.)

The longer I sit thinking
and am with my pen a-inking
I’m numb
                                   I’m numb.

How can a life so dull and shit
produce this malaise (we all feel it)

Oh. Oh. Oh.

I see.