Poetry, the unrecognized dangers of.

You ever have that thing where your brain is just completely nonfunctional, because two completely different poems are running through it, and you can't get rid of either of them, so your head is just swimming and you feel dazed?

I've got A E Housman's "Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries" and T S Eliot's "The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock" running through my head simultaneously. AARRGH!