A Psychiatric Disorder

“Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition.”

― Timothy Leary

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I done me best when I was let. Oh yeah I did: whistle-blowin, liftin the lid. I fink I always knowed it’d go wrong. Nuffin’ fer a laugh, nuffin’ fer a song.

One hundred seas could separate you from me, our sea of troubles, see, fear death by drownin’ in it.

One in a thousand years of nights will parcel me up just right, and remove me from sight.

The cubby-hole under the stairs will do fer the likes o’me an’ you for wettin’ the bed: they hit you me I banged and banged me head.

All me life I have been lived among ‘em now they are become loathed to me. In bed I am alone and wet, like the sea. All those fuckers so-mean love o’money all the greedy imp rushes out of their small souls. lazy leaks their body’s plumb.

For all that glitters is not cold that very very thing she wears a ring of fire.

I plunge me directly into the freezin’ cold water where there is no plug.

The gaps in the very earth listen to silence so, study rhyme an air-conditioned thing, so easy to sell listen to the tinkle of the bell in hell.

So rare a spirit speak its mind to me: the criminally insane them toads and cats conspire nothing is the same, a gain.

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