I feel weird and I feel stranger,
I can sense my stomach grayling:
Hear me shudder, I’m in danger,
Hear the loathsome trains de-railing.
I feel banjaxed, I feel vomit
Spurting out like molten gove:
Watch me, I’m recoiling from it –
Gurgling in the rotting grove.
The under-arms when dancing morris
Sicken me to marrowbone.
Help, I’m feeling very boris,
Very bulbous kidney-stone.
Watch me, as I’m sure to spew,
Innards burst and rees and mogg:
See this vicious residue!
Palate tastes of demagogue!
Bile inhabits all my thought,
Feeling liam, nasty fox –
My liver’s rather overwrought –
It’s a hopeless case of pox.
Here’s another stinky cheeser,
Here’s the final coffin nail –
Here I churn in her theresa,
Off the worst emetic scale.
Click here for a Guardian article