It's a bit more acute than Nausea
but Sartre knows better than I

it's when you think your kidney
might come out your right ear
where you haven't been able to hear

for two days, yet it's ringing with
a phone call to tell you that 
you're awfully sorry, from your
future, and that everything between

now and then would be better
to hang up; and rather than an ending
with a definitive meaning
available to those who are remembered

there must be the denial of conclusions
indefinitely unfortunately
but enough to send the sense of disgust
to rest until it comes out again.