...can really help you get through the day. Especially when life is not making a whole lot of sense, but you know you can divine something from the murkiness of it all, if you just look deeply enough, or abstractly enough.
And here's mine:
As I stand in this floambertsnog listening to schizzle
And the flip-flap of the winged Be-He-Moth sets me to frizzle
The splorts in my mind begin to cronk back and forth
Across schasms of dunkrock from south Crag to north
Should I ascue the critter and fling through the proush
Setting all subsequent beskwittles a-whoosh?
Or is it bester to toigh down and batten the Gildershod
Thereby sneeching further plaise from El Bunder God?
Itʼs quackshuns like this that give my razz a twittle
And thereʼs nought left to droom but google P. Diddle
For the wisenack oft blooms when snorching hubriskly
Instorgation desmacks one upon blacker he kissed me.
But now I groph too far awarft of the gayden
Which skines no promish for Lorsh to say then
Whither the grung Be-He-Moth finds his Frodung
Or sufrices all life on the errant Lacklung.
The left arm moveth atwine, water twurgs down,
The Hordnath hath come to clunter a chown
This marth be the last Toblerooter I am gibbons
To besquath my evortlast Smot from the hibbons!
I dart longly with my flortle-ink, twerds the critter
Draply luring it asnonk with nought a low twitter
Checking each splort that groams up to give me droth,
Alas, the proush flies wide and off flaps Be-He-Moth!