Your sharp tongue
moving behind your teeth,  
I felt it roar and clamor
in tumults of confusion,
In a hullabaloo of
hurly-burly upheaval,
The wickedness is as
heavy on my shoulders;
As it is on yours,

Against my mouth
yours did beat and bicker,
This flickering bedside-lamp
of bedlam disarray,
Revenge is ice-cream
when you and I scream,
Too sweet and too sticky,
I feel full of sickness
and sorrow,

Don't we deserve
our just desserts
A little less
nauseating?

-Jamie F. Nugent