Repetition

Julian Cope is in my head.

Haven't ate my butter, haven't ate

my bread.  Only diet sodas please.

I'm lying in bed.  I lie all the time.

F*****g aches I want a med.  Mark

Smith makes me drip between my

knees.  If only I had a time machine.

Back to 1983... No clocks on the

wall.  Clocks in my hands.  Ian

McCulloch always rhymes, who said

rhyming is bad?  So lush ... My legs

are more fiery than Miki Berenyi's

hair...or is it my heart?  The mediator

between the head and legs must be

the heart... Miki Berenyi red like the

sky at sunset.  Please...I sigh and I'm

wet.  My lips are so dry and my

fingernails are long.  It's irritating.

There's no place in this world where

I belong.  That's irritating.  The

frustration hums like the traffic at

dawn.  Aches and pains of every sort

well variety is the spice of life.  Yet

somehow I love repetition.