this is why i'm doing science, and didn't become a streetside poet.

when i sit in lectures, especially ones that are air-conditioned, i have a tendency to inspect the back of my eyelids. they're pretty fascinating. however, i've found that this isn't sound practice for the whole academia / work / research / slacking off thing. and so, i doodle. more often than not, i make up horrible poetry. last week has been an intensive course on epidemiology of infectious and communicable diseases, so here are some gems from my wily wills:

three cyclones are on the run,
three cyclones are so much fun;
three cyclones to make my day,
oh look, they've gone away :(

down the pyramid we all go,
tip the iceberg, back-up flow,
up the hill let us all climb,
all in effort for a dime.

spare parts, spare parts, i can't remember,
oh, God, why is it already september?
that's all from me, 'til tea at two,
the worst is 'horton hears a who'.

then all went downhill when i started integrating some vague things the lecturers were saying into the poems. i guess once you've hit rock bottom, it's time to start digging there's nowhere left to go but up?